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LOVE and

Other Early Works
also spelled
A collection of juvenile writings

Jane Austen
A Penn State Electronic Classics Series Publication
Love and Friendship by Jane Austen is a publication of the Pennsylvania State University.
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Love and Friendship by Jane Austen, the Pennsylvania State University, Electronic Classics
Series, Jim Manis, Faculty Editor, Hazleton, PA 18201-1291 is a Portable Document File pro-
duced as part of an ongoing student publication project to bring classical works of literature,
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Copyright © 2001 The Pennsylvania State University

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LOVE AND FREINDSHIP ................................................. 4
AN UNFINISHED NOVEL IN LETTERS ................................................................................................................ 34

LESLEY CASTLE .......................................................................................................................... 35

THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND ................................................................................................... 61
A COLLECTION OF LETTERS ................................................................................................. 72
SCRAPS ........................................................................................................................................... 91
THE FEMALE PHILOSOPHER ................................................................................................. 92
THE FIRST ACT OF A COMEDY .............................................................................................. 93
A LETTER from a YOUNG LADY, whose feelings being too strong for her Judgement led her into the commis-

sion of Errors which her Heart disapproved. ........................................................................................................ 96

A TOUR THROUGH WALES—in a LETTER from a YOUNG LADY— ............................................................... 97

A TALE ............................................................................................................................................. 98
Love and Friendship

To Madame La Comtesse de Feuillide
Other Early Works
This novel is inscribed by her obliged humble servant
the author.
also spelled

LOVE AND FREINDSHIP “Deceived in Freindship and Betrayed in Love.”

Letter the First From Isabel to Laura

A collection of juvenile writings
How often, in answer to my repeated intreaties that you
by would give my Daughter a regular detail of the Misfor-
tunes and Adventures of your Life, have you said “No,
Jane Austen my freind never will I comply with your request till I
may be no longer in Danger of again experiencing such
dreadful ones.”

Jane Austen
Surely that time is now at hand. You are this day 55. Letter 3rd Laura to Marianne
If a woman may ever be said to be in safety from the
determined Perseverance of disagreeable Lovers and the As the Daughter of my most intimate freind I think you
cruel Persecutions of obstinate Fathers, surely it must entitled to that knowledge of my unhappy story, which
be at such a time of Life. your Mother has so often solicited me to give you.
My Father was a native of Ireland and an inhabitant
Isabel of Wales; my Mother was the natural Daughter of a
Scotch Peer by an italian Opera-girl—I was born in
Spain and received my Education at a Convent in
Letter 2nd Laura to Isabel When I had reached my eighteenth Year I was recalled
by my Parents to my paternal roof in Wales. Our man-
Altho’ I cannot agree with you in supposing that I shall sion was situated in one of the most romantic parts of
never again be exposed to Misfortunes as unmerited as the Vale of Uske. Tho’ my Charms are now consider-
those I have already experienced, yet to avoid the im- ably softened and somewhat impaired by the Misfor-
putation of Obstinacy or ill-nature, I will gratify the tunes I have undergone, I was once beautiful. But lovely
curiosity of your daughter; and may the fortitude with as I was the Graces of my Person were the least of my
which I have suffered the many afflictions of my past Perfections. Of every accomplishment accustomary to
Life, prove to her a useful lesson for the support of those my sex, I was Mistress. When in the Convent, my
which may befall her in her own. Laura progress had always exceeded my instructions, my Ac-
quirements had been wonderfull for my age, and I had

Love and Friendship
shortly surpassed my Masters. Letter 4th Laura to Marianne
In my Mind, every Virtue that could adorn it was cen-
tered; it was the Rendez-vous of every good Quality and Our neighbourhood was small, for it consisted only of
of every noble sentiment. your Mother. She may probably have already told you
A sensibility too tremblingly alive to every affliction that being left by her Parents in indigent Circumstances
of my Freinds, my Acquaintance and particularly to she had retired into Wales on eoconomical motives.
every affliction of my own, was my only fault, if a fault There it was our freindship first commenced. Isobel
it could be called. Alas! how altered now! Tho’ indeed was then one and twenty. Tho’ pleasing both in her
my own Misfortunes do not make less impression on me Person and Manners (between ourselves) she never pos-
than they ever did, yet now I never feel for those of an sessed the hundredth part of my Beauty or Accomplish-
other. My accomplishments too, begin to fade—I can ments. Isabel had seen the World. She had passed 2
neither sing so well nor Dance so gracefully as I once Years at one of the first Boarding-schools in London;
did—and I have entirely forgot the Minuet dela Cour. had spent a fortnight in Bath and had supped one night
Adeiu. Laura. in Southampton.
“Beware my Laura (she would often say) Beware of
the insipid Vanities and idle Dissipations of the Metropo-
lis of England; Beware of the unmeaning Luxuries of
Bath and of the stinking fish of Southampton.”
“Alas! (exclaimed I) how am I to avoid those evils I
shall never be exposed to? What probability is there of
my ever tasting the Dissipations of London, the Luxu-

Jane Austen
ries of Bath, or the stinking Fish of Southampton? I from some uncommon violence exerted against our
who am doomed to waste my Days of Youth and Beauty unoffending door.” “Yes (exclaimed I) I cannot help
in an humble Cottage in the Vale of Uske.” thinking it must be somebody who knocks for admit-
Ah! little did I then think I was ordained so soon to tance.”
quit that humble Cottage for the Deceitfull Pleasures of “That is another point (replied he;) We must not pre-
the World. tend to determine on what motive the person may
knock—tho’ that someone does rap at the door, I am
Adeiu Laura. partly convinced.”
Here, a 2d tremendous rap interrupted my Father in
his speech, and somewhat alarmed my Mother and me.
Letter 5th Laura to Marianne “Had we better not go and see who it is? (said she) the
servants are out.” “I think we had.” (replied I.) “Cer-
One Evening in December as my Father, my Mother tainly, (added my Father) by all means.” “Shall we go
and myself, were arranged in social converse round our now?” (said my Mother,) “The sooner the better.” (an-
Fireside, we were on a sudden greatly astonished, by swered he.) “Oh! let no time be lost” (cried I.)
hearing a violent knocking on the outward door of our A third more violent Rap than ever again assaulted
rustic Cot. our ears. “I am certain there is somebody knocking at
My Father started—”What noise is that,” (said he.) “It the Door.” (said my Mother.) “I think there must,” (re-
sounds like a loud rapping at the door”—(replied my plied my Father) “I fancy the servants are returned; (said
Mother.) “it does indeed.” (cried I.) “I am of your opin- I) I think I hear Mary going to the Door.” “I’m glad of it
ion; (said my Father) it certainly does appear to proceed (cried my Father) for I long to know who it is.”

Love and Friendship
I was right in my conjecture; for Mary instantly enter- Letter 6th Laura to Marianne
ing the Room, informed us that a young Gentleman and
his Servant were at the door, who had lossed their way, The noble Youth informed us that his name was Lind-
were very cold and begged leave to warm themselves by say—for particular reasons however I shall conceal it
our fire. under that of Talbot. He told us that he was the son of
“Won’t you admit them?” (said I.) “You have no ob- an English Baronet, that his Mother had been for many
jection, my Dear?” (said my Father.) “None in the years no more and that he had a Sister of the middle
World.” (replied my Mother.) size. “My Father (he continued) is a mean and merce-
Mary, without waiting for any further commands im- nary wretch—it is only to such particular freinds as this
mediately left the room and quickly returned introduc- Dear Party that I would thus betray his failings. Your
ing the most beauteous and amiable Youth, I had ever Virtues my amiable Polydore (addressing himself to my
beheld. The servant she kept to herself. father) yours Dear Claudia and yours my Charming
My natural sensibility had already been greatly af- Laura call on me to repose in you, my confidence.” We
fected by the sufferings of the unfortunate stranger and bowed. “My Father seduced by the false glare of For-
no sooner did I first behold him, than I felt that on him tune and the Deluding Pomp of Title, insisted on my
the happiness or Misery of my future Life must depend. giving my hand to Lady Dorothea. No never exclaimed
I. Lady Dorothea is lovely and Engaging; I prefer no
Adeiu Laura. woman to her; but know Sir, that I scorn to marry her
in compliance with your Wishes. No! Never shall it be
said that I obliged my Father.”
We all admired the noble Manliness of his reply. He
Jane Austen
“Sir Edward was surprised; he had perhaps little ex- light, which as I approached it, I discovered to be the
pected to meet with so spirited an opposition to his will. chearfull Blaze of your fire. Impelled by the combina-
“Where, Edward in the name of wonder (said he) did tion of Misfortunes under which I laboured, namely Fear,
you pick up this unmeaning gibberish? You have been Cold and Hunger I hesitated not to ask admittance
studying Novels I suspect.” I scorned to answer: it would which at length I have gained; and now my Adorable
have been beneath my dignity. I mounted my Horse Laura (continued he taking my Hand) when may I hope
and followed by my faithful William set forth for my to receive that reward of all the painfull sufferings I have
Aunts.” undergone during the course of my attachment to you,
“My Father’s house is situated in Bedfordshire, my to which I have ever aspired. Oh! when will you re-
Aunt’s in Middlesex, and tho’ I flatter myself with be- ward me with Yourself?”
ing a tolerable proficient in Geography, I know not how “This instant, Dear and Amiable Edward.” (replied
it happened, but I found myself entering this beautifull I.). We were immediately united by my Father, who tho’
Vale which I find is in South Wales, when I had expected he had never taken orders had been bred to the Church.
to have reached my Aunts.”
“After having wandered some time on the Banks of Adeiu Laura
the Uske without knowing which way to go, I began to
lament my cruel Destiny in the bitterest and most pa-
thetic Manner. It was now perfectly dark, not a single
star was there to direct my steps, and I know not what
might have befallen me had I not at length discerned
thro’ the solemn Gloom that surrounded me a distant

Love and Friendship
Letter 7th Laura to Marianne Her Language was neither warm, nor affectionate, her
expressions of regard were neither animated nor cor-
We remained but a few days after our Marriage, in the dial; her arms were not opened to receive me to her
Vale of Uske. After taking an affecting Farewell of my Heart, tho’ my own were extended to press her to mine.
Father, my Mother and my Isabel, I accompanied Ed- A short Conversation between Augusta and her
ward to his Aunt’s in Middlesex. Philippa received us Brother, which I accidentally overheard encreased my
both with every expression of affectionate Love. My dislike to her, and convinced me that her Heart was no
arrival was indeed a most agreable surprise to her as more formed for the soft ties of Love than for the en-
she had not only been totally ignorant of my Marriage dearing intercourse of Freindship.
with her Nephew, but had never even had the slightest “But do you think that my Father will ever be recon-
idea of there being such a person in the World. ciled to this imprudent connection?” (said Augusta.)
Augusta, the sister of Edward was on a visit to her “Augusta (replied the noble Youth) I thought you had
when we arrived. I found her exactly what her Brother a better opinion of me, than to imagine I would so ab-
had described her to be—of the middle size. She re- jectly degrade myself as to consider my Father’s Concur-
ceived me with equal surprise though not with equal rence in any of my affairs, either of Consequence or con-
Cordiality, as Philippa. There was a disagreable cold- cern to me. Tell me Augusta with sincerity; did you ever
ness and Forbidding Reserve in her reception of me know me consult his inclinations or follow his Advice in
which was equally distressing and Unexpected. None the least trifling Particular since the age of fifteen?”
of that interesting Sensibility or amiable simpathy in her “Edward (replied she) you are surely too diffident in
manners and Address to me when we first met which your own praise. Since you were fifteen only! My Dear
should have distinguished our introduction to each other. Brother since you were five years old, I entirely acquit

Jane Austen
you of ever having willingly contributed to the satisfac- every distress that Poverty can inflict, with the object of
tion of your Father. But still I am not without appre- your tenderest affection?”
hensions of your being shortly obliged to degrade your- “You are too ridiculous (said Augusta) to argue with;
self in your own eyes by seeking a support for your wife perhaps however you may in time be convinced that ...”
in the Generosity of Sir Edward.” Here I was prevented from hearing the remainder of
“Never, never Augusta will I so demean myself. (said her speech, by the appearance of a very Handsome young
Edward). Support! What support will Laura want which Woman, who was ushured into the Room at the Door of
she can receive from him?” which I had been listening. On hearing her announced
“Only those very insignificant ones of Victuals and by the Name of “Lady Dorothea,” I instantly quitted my
Drink.” (answered she.) Post and followed her into the Parlour, for I well remem-
“Victuals and Drink! (replied my Husband in a most bered that she was the Lady, proposed as a Wife for my
nobly contemptuous Manner) and dost thou then imag- Edward by the Cruel and Unrelenting Baronet.
ine that there is no other support for an exalted mind Altho’ Lady Dorothea’s visit was nominally to Philippa
(such as is my Laura’s) than the mean and indelicate and Augusta, yet I have some reason to imagine that
employment of Eating and Drinking?” (acquainted with the Marriage and arrival of Edward)
“None that I know of, so efficacious.” (returned Au- to see me was a principal motive to it.
gusta). I soon perceived that tho’ Lovely and Elegant in her
“And did you then never feel the pleasing Pangs of Person and tho’ Easy and Polite in her Address, she was
Love, Augusta? (replied my Edward). Does it appear of that inferior order of Beings with regard to Delicate
impossible to your vile and corrupted Palate, to exist on Feeling, tender Sentiments, and refined Sensibility, of
Love? Can you not conceive the Luxury of living in which Augusta was one.

Love and Friendship
She staid but half an hour and neither in the Course “Sir Edward, I know the motive of your Journey here—
of her Visit, confided to me any of her secret thoughts, You come with the base Design of reproaching me for
nor requested me to confide in her, any of Mine. You having entered into an indissoluble engagement with
will easily imagine therefore my Dear Marianne that I my Laura without your Consent. But Sir, I glory in the
could not feel any ardent affection or very sincere At- Act—. It is my greatest boast that I have incurred the
tachment for Lady Dorothea. displeasure of my Father!”
So saying, he took my hand and whilst Sir Edward,
Adeiu Laura. Philippa, and Augusta were doubtless reflecting with
admiration on his undaunted Bravery, led me from the
Parlour to his Father’s Carriage which yet remained at
Letter 8th Laura to Marianne, in continuation the Door and in which we were instantly conveyed from
the pursuit of Sir Edward.
Lady Dorothea had not left us long before another visi- The Postilions had at first received orders only to take
tor as unexpected a one as her Ladyship, was an- the London road; as soon as we had sufficiently reflected
nounced. It was Sir Edward, who informed by Augusta However, we ordered them to Drive to M——. the seat
of her Brother’s marriage, came doubtless to reproach of Edward’s most particular freind, which was but a few
him for having dared to unite himself to me without his miles distant.
Knowledge. But Edward foreseeing his design, ap- At M——. we arrived in a few hours; and on sending
proached him with heroic fortitude as soon as he en- in our names were immediately admitted to Sophia, the
tered the Room, and addressed him in the following Wife of Edward’s freind. After having been deprived
Manner. during the course of 3 weeks of a real freind (for such I

Jane Austen
term your Mother) imagine my transports at beholding Letter the 9th From the same to the same
one, most truly worthy of the Name. Sophia was rather
above the middle size; most elegantly formed. A soft lan- Towards the close of the day we received the following
guor spread over her lovely features, but increased their Letter from Philippa.
Beauty—. It was the Charectarestic of her Mind—. She “Sir Edward is greatly incensed by your abrupt de-
was all sensibility and Feeling. We flew into each others parture; he has taken back Augusta to Bedfordshire.
arms and after having exchanged vows of mutual Much as I wish to enjoy again your charming society, I
Freindship for the rest of our Lives, instantly unfolded cannot determine to snatch you from that, of such dear
to each other the most inward secrets of our Hearts—. and deserving Freinds—When your Visit to them is ter-
We were interrupted in the delightfull Employment by minated, I trust you will return to the arms of your”
the entrance of Augustus, (Edward’s freind) who was “Philippa.”
just returned from a solitary ramble. We returned a suitable answer to this affectionate Note
Never did I see such an affecting Scene as was the and after thanking her for her kind invitation assured
meeting of Edward and Augustus. her that we would certainly avail ourselves of it, when-
“My Life! my Soul!” (exclaimed the former) “My ador- ever we might have no other place to go to. Tho’ cer-
able angel!” (replied the latter) as they flew into each tainly nothing could to any reasonable Being, have ap-
other’s arms. It was too pathetic for the feelings of peared more satisfactory, than so gratefull a reply to
Sophia and myself—We fainted alternately on a sofa. her invitation, yet I know not how it was, but she was
certainly capricious enough to be displeased with our
Adeiu Laura. behaviour and in a few weeks after, either to revenge
our Conduct, or releive her own solitude, married a

Love and Friendship
young and illiterate Fortune-hunter. This imprudent then enjoyed was too perfect to be lasting. A most se-
step (tho’ we were sensible that it would probably de- vere and unexpected Blow at once destroyed every sen-
prive us of that fortune which Philippa had ever taught sation of Pleasure. Convinced as you must be from what
us to expect) could not on our own accounts, excite from I have already told you concerning Augustus and
our exalted minds a single sigh; yet fearfull lest it might Sophia, that there never were a happier Couple, I need
prove a source of endless misery to the deluded Bride, not I imagine, inform you that their union had been
our trembling Sensibility was greatly affected when we contrary to the inclinations of their Cruel and Mercenery
were first informed of the Event.The affectionate En- Parents; who had vainly endeavoured with obstinate
treaties of Augustus and Sophia that we would for ever Perseverance to force them into a Marriage with those
consider their House as our Home, easily prevailed on whom they had ever abhorred; but with a Heroic Forti-
us to determine never more to leave them, In the society tude worthy to be related and admired, they had both,
of my Edward and this Amiable Pair, I passed the hap- constantly refused to submit to such despotic Power.
piest moments of my Life; Our time was most delight- After having so nobly disentangled themselves from the
fully spent, in mutual Protestations of Freindship, and shackles of Parental Authority, by a Clandestine Mar-
in vows of unalterable Love, in which we were secure riage, they were determined never to forfeit the good opin-
from being interrupted, by intruding and disagreable ion they had gained in the World, in so doing, by accept-
Visitors, as Augustus and Sophia had on their first En- ing any proposals of reconciliation that might be offered
trance in the Neighbourhood, taken due care to inform them by their Fathers—to this farther tryal of their noble
the surrounding Families, that as their happiness cen- independance however they never were exposed.
tered wholly in themselves, they wished for no other so- They had been married but a few months when our
ciety. But alas! my Dear Marianne such Happiness as I visit to them commenced during which time they had

Jane Austen
been amply supported by a considerable sum of money Letter 10th Laura in continuation
which Augustus had gracefully purloined from his un-
worthy father’s Escritoire, a few days before his union When we were somewhat recovered from the overpow-
with Sophia. ering Effusions of our grief, Edward desired that we
By our arrival their Expenses were considerably would consider what was the most prudent step to be
encreased tho’ their means for supplying them were then taken in our unhappy situation while he repaired to his
nearly exhausted. But they, Exalted Creatures! scorned imprisoned freind to lament over his misfortunes. We
to reflect a moment on their pecuniary Distresses and promised that we would, and he set forwards on his jour-
would have blushed at the idea of paying their Debts.— ney to Town. During his absence we faithfully com-
Alas! what was their Reward for such disinterested plied with his Desire and after the most mature Delib-
Behaviour! The beautifull Augustus was arrested and eration, at length agreed that the best thing we could
we were all undone. Such perfidious Treachery in the do was to leave the House; of which we every moment
merciless perpetrators of the Deed will shock your gentle expected the officers of Justice to take possession. We
nature Dearest Marianne as much as it then affected waited therefore with the greatest impatience, for the
the Delicate sensibility of Edward, Sophia, your Laura, return of Edward in order to impart to him the result of
and of Augustus himself. To compleat such unparalelled our Deliberations. But no Edward appeared. In vain
Barbarity we were informed that an Execution in the did we count the tedious moments of his absence—in
House would shortly take place. Ah! what could we do vain did we weep—in vain even did we sigh—no Ed-
but what we did! We sighed and fainted on the sofa. ward returned—. This was too cruel, too unexpected a
Blow to our Gentle Sensibility—we could not support
Adeiu Laura. it—we could only faint. At length collecting all the

Love and Friendship
Resolution I was Mistress of, I arose and after packing then endured, destitute of any support, and unprovided
up some necessary apparel for Sophia and myself, I with any Habitation, I should never once have remem-
dragged her to a Carriage I had ordered and we instantly bered my Father and Mother or my paternal Cottage in
set out for London. As the Habitation of Augustus was the Vale of Uske. To account for this seeming
within twelve miles of Town, it was not long e’er we ar- forgetfullness I must inform you of a trifling circum-
rived there, and no sooner had we entered Holboun than stance concerning them which I have as yet never men-
letting down one of the Front Glasses I enquired of ev- tioned. The death of my Parents a few weeks after my
ery decent-looking Person that we passed “If they had Departure, is the circumstance I allude to. By their de-
seen my Edward?” cease I became the lawfull Inheritress of their House
But as we drove too rapidly to allow them to answer and Fortune. But alas! the House had never been their
my repeated Enquiries, I gained little, or indeed, no in- own and their Fortune had only been an Annuity on
formation concerning him. “Where am I to drive?” said their own Lives. Such is the Depravity of the World! To
the Postilion. “To Newgate Gentle Youth (replied I), to your Mother I should have returned with Pleasure,
see Augustus.” “Oh! no, no, (exclaimed Sophia) I can- should have been happy to have introduced to her, my
not go to Newgate; I shall not be able to support the charming Sophia and should with Chearfullness have
sight of my Augustus in so cruel a confinement—my feel- passed the remainder of my Life in their dear Society in
ings are sufficiently shocked by the Recital, of his Dis- the Vale of Uske, had not one obstacle to the execution
tress, but to behold it will overpower my Sensibility.” As of so agreable a scheme, intervened; which was the
I perfectly agreed with her in the Justice of her Senti- Marriage and Removal of your Mother to a distant part
ments the Postilion was instantly directed to return into of Ireland.
the Country. You may perhaps have been somewhat Adeiu Laura.
surprised my Dearest Marianne, that in the Distress I
Jane Austen
Letter 11th Laura in continuation stepping into the Carriage for that Purpose when our
attention was attracted by the Entrance of a coroneted
“I have a Relation in Scotland (said Sophia to me as we Coach and 4 into the Inn-yard. A Gentleman consider-
left London) who I am certain would not hesitate in re- ably advanced in years descended from it. At his first
ceiving me.” “Shall I order the Boy to drive there?” said Appearance my Sensibility was wonderfully affected and
I—but instantly recollecting myself, exclaimed, “Alas I e’er I had gazed at him a 2d time, an instinctive sympa-
fear it will be too long a Journey for the Horses.” Unwill- thy whispered to my Heart, that he was my Grandfa-
ing however to act only from my own inadequate Knowl- ther. Convinced that I could not be mistaken in my
edge of the Strength and Abilities of Horses, I consulted conjecture I instantly sprang from the Carriage I had
the Postilion, who was entirely of my Opinion concern- just entered, and following the Venerable Stranger into
ing the Affair. We therefore determined to change the Room he had been shewn to, I threw myself on my
Horses at the next Town and to travel Post the remain- knees before him and besought him to acknowledge me
der of the Journey —. When we arrived at the last Inn as his Grand Child. He started, and having attentively
we were to stop at, which was but a few miles from the examined my features, raised me from the Ground and
House of Sophia’s Relation, unwilling to intrude our So- throwing his Grand-fatherly arms around my Neck,
ciety on him unexpected and unthought of, we wrote a exclaimed, “Acknowledge thee! Yes dear resemblance
very elegant and well penned Note to him containing of my Laurina and Laurina’s Daughter, sweet image of
an account of our Destitute and melancholy Situation, my Claudia and my Claudia’s Mother, I do acknowl-
and of our intention to spend some months with him in edge thee as the Daughter of the one and the
Scotland. As soon as we had dispatched this Letter, we Grandaughter of the other.” While he was thus tenderly
immediately prepared to follow it in person and were embracing me, Sophia astonished at my precipitate

Love and Friendship
Departure, entered the Room in search of me. No sooner “And here he is; (said a Gracefull Youth who that in-
had she caught the eye of the venerable Peer, than he stant entered the room) here is the Gustavus you desire
exclaimed with every mark of Astonishment —”Another to see. I am the son of Agatha your Laurina’s 4th and
Grandaughter! Yes, yes, I see you are the Daughter of youngest Daughter,” “I see you are indeed; replied Lord
my Laurina’s eldest Girl; your resemblance to the beau- St. Clair—But tell me (continued he looking fearfully
teous Matilda sufficiently proclaims it. “Oh!” replied towards the Door) tell me, have I any other Grand-chil-
Sophia, “when I first beheld you the instinct of Nature dren in the House.” “None my Lord.” “Then I will pro-
whispered me that we were in some degree related—But vide for you all without farther delay—Here are 4
whether Grandfathers, or Grandmothers, I could not Banknotes of 50L each—Take them and remember I
pretend to determine.” He folded her in his arms, and have done the Duty of a Grandfather.” He instantly left
whilst they were tenderly embracing, the Door of the the Room and immediately afterwards the House.
Apartment opened and a most beautifull young Man
appeared. On perceiving him Lord St. Clair started and Adeiu, Laura.
retreating back a few paces, with uplifted Hands, said,
“Another Grand-child! What an unexpected Happiness
is this! to discover in the space of 3 minutes, as many of
my Descendants! This I am certain is Philander the son
of my Laurina’s 3d girl the amiable Bertha; there wants
now but the presence of Gustavus to compleat the Union
of my Laurina’s Grand-Children.”

Jane Austen
Letter the 12th Laura in continuation with him to Macdonald-Hall, and that as his Cousin’s
freind he should be happy to see me there also. To
You may imagine how greatly we were surprised by the Macdonald-Hall, therefore we went, and were received
sudden departure of Lord St Clair. “Ignoble Grand- with great kindness by Janetta the Daughter of
sire!” exclaimed Sophia. “Unworthy Grandfather!” said Macdonald, and the Mistress of the Mansion. Janetta
I, and instantly fainted in each other’s arms. How long was then only fifteen; naturally well disposed, endowed
we remained in this situation I know not; but when we with a susceptible Heart, and a simpathetic Disposition,
recovered we found ourselves alone, without either she might, had these amiable qualities been properly
Gustavus, Philander, or the Banknotes. As we were de- encouraged, have been an ornament to human Nature;
ploring our unhappy fate, the Door of the Apartment but unfortunately her Father possessed not a soul suffi-
opened and “Macdonald” was announced. He was ciently exalted to admire so promising a Disposition, and
Sophia’s cousin. The haste with which he came to our had endeavoured by every means on his power to pre-
releif so soon after the receipt of our Note, spoke so vent it encreasing with her Years. He had actually so
greatly in his favour that I hesitated not to pronounce far extinguished the natural noble Sensibility of her
him at first sight, a tender and simpathetic Freind. Alas! Heart, as to prevail on her to accept an offer from a
he little deserved the name—for though he told us that young Man of his Recommendation. They were to be
he was much concerned at our Misfortunes, yet by his married in a few months, and Graham, was in the House
own account it appeared that the perusal of them, had when we arrived. We soon saw through his character.
neither drawn from him a single sigh, nor induced him He was just such a Man as one might have expected to
to bestow one curse on our vindictive stars—. He told be the choice of Macdonald. They said he was Sen-
Sophia that his Daughter depended on her returning sible, well-informed, and Agreable; we did not pretend

Love and Friendship
to Judge of such trifles, but as we were convinced he Person. For some time, she persevered in declaring that
had no soul, that he had never read the sorrows of she knew no other young man for whom she had the
Werter, and that his Hair bore not the least resemblance the smallest Affection; but upon explaining the impos-
to auburn, we were certain that Janetta could feel no sibility of such a thing she said that she beleived she did
affection for him, or at least that she ought to feel none. like Captain M’Kenrie better than any one she knew
The very circumstance of his being her father’s choice besides. This confession satisfied us and after having
too, was so much in his disfavour, that had he been de- enumerated the good Qualities of M’Kenrie and assured
serving her, in every other respect yet that of itself ought her that she was violently in love with him, we desired
to have been a sufficient reason in the Eyes of Janetta to know whether he had ever in any wise declared his
for rejecting him. These considerations we were deter- affection to her.
mined to represent to her in their proper light and “So far from having ever declared it, I have no reason
doubted not of meeting with the desired success from to imagine that he has ever felt any for me.” said Janetta.
one naturally so well disposed; whose errors in the af- “That he certainly adores you (replied Sophia) there can
fair had only arisen from a want of proper confidence be no doubt—. The Attachment must be reciprocal. Did
in her own opinion, and a suitable contempt of her he never gaze on you with admiration—tenderly press
father’s. We found her indeed all that our warmest your hand—drop an involantary tear—and leave the
wishes could have hoped for; we had no difficulty to room abruptly?” “Never (replied she) that I remember—
convince her that it was impossible she could love Gra- he has always left the room indeed when his visit has
ham, or that it was her Duty to disobey her Father; the been ended, but has never gone away particularly
only thing at which she rather seemed to hesitate was abruptly or without making a bow.” Indeed my Love
our assertion that she must be attached to some other (said I) you must be mistaken—for it is absolutely im-

Jane Austen
possible that he should ever have left you but with Con- municate that scheme which had doubtless long pos-
fusion, Despair, and Precipitation. Consider but for a sessed your imagination? A secret Union will at once
moment Janetta, and you must be convinced how ab- secure the felicity of both.”
surd it is to suppose that he could ever make a Bow, or The amiable M’Kenrie, whose modesty as he after-
behave like any other Person.” Having settled this Point wards assured us had been the only reason of his hav-
to our satisfaction, the next we took into consideration ing so long concealed the violence of his affection for
was, to determine in what manner we should inform Janetta, on receiving this Billet flew on the wings of Love
M’Kenrie of the favourable Opinion Janetta entertained to Macdonald-Hall, and so powerfully pleaded his At-
of him. . . . We at length agreed to acquaint him with it tachment to her who inspired it, that after a few more
by an anonymous Letter which Sophia drew up in the private interveiws, Sophia and I experienced the satis-
following manner. faction of seeing them depart for Gretna-Green, which
“Oh! happy Lover of the beautifull Janetta, oh! ami- they chose for the celebration of their Nuptials, in pref-
able Possessor of her Heart whose hand is destined to erence to any other place although it was at a consider-
another, why do you thus delay a confession of your at- able distance from Macdonald-Hall.
tachment to the amiable Object of it? Oh! consider
that a few weeks will at once put an end to every flatter- Adeiu, Laura.
ing Hope that you may now entertain, by uniting the
unfortunate Victim of her father’s Cruelty to the ex-
ecrable and detested Graham.”
“Alas! why do you thus so cruelly connive at the pro-
jected Misery of her and of yourself by delaying to com-

Love and Friendship
Letter the 13th Laura in continuation in her employment by the entrance of Macdonald him-
self, in a most abrupt and precipitate Manner. Sophia
They had been gone nearly a couple of Hours, before (who though naturally all winning sweetness could when
either Macdonald or Graham had entertained any sus- occasions demanded it call forth the Dignity of her sex)
picion of the affair. And they might not even then have instantly put on a most forbidding look, and darting an
suspected it, but for the following little Accident. Sophia angry frown on the undaunted culprit, demanded in a
happening one day to open a private Drawer in haughty tone of voice “Wherefore her retirement was
Macdonald’s Library with one of her own keys, discov- thus insolently broken in on?” The unblushing
ered that it was the Place where he kept his Papers of Macdonald, without even endeavouring to exculpate
consequence and amongst them some bank notes of con- himself from the crime he was charged with, meanly en-
siderable amount. This discovery she imparted to me; deavoured to reproach Sophia with ignobly defrauding
and having agreed together that it would be a proper him of his money…. The dignity of Sophia was
treatment of so vile a Wretch as Macdonald to deprive wounded; “Wretch (exclaimed she, hastily replacing the
him of money, perhaps dishonestly gained, it was deter- Bank-note in the Drawer) how darest thou to accuse me
mined that the next time we should either of us happen of an Act, of which the bare idea makes me blush?” The
to go that way, we would take one or more of the Bank base wretch was still unconvinced and continued to
notes from the drawer. This well meant Plan we had upbraid the justly-offended Sophia in such opprobious
often successfully put in Execution; but alas! on the Language, that at length he so greatly provoked the
very day of Janetta’s Escape, as Sophia was majestically gentle sweetness of her Nature, as to induce her to re-
removing the 5th Bank-note from the Drawer to her own venge herself on him by informing him of Janetta’s
purse, she was suddenly most impertinently interrupted Elopement, and of the active Part we had both taken in

Jane Austen
the affair. At this period of their Quarrel I entered the “It must indeed be a most gratefull reflection, to your
Library and was as you may imagine equally offended exalted minds.” (said he.)
as Sophia at the ill-grounded accusations of the malevo- As soon as we had packed up our wardrobe and valu-
lent and contemptible Macdonald. “Base Miscreant! ables, we left Macdonald Hall, and after having walked
(cried I) how canst thou thus undauntedly endeavour about a mile and a half we sate down by the side of a
to sully the spotless reputation of such bright Excellence? clear limpid stream to refresh our exhausted limbs. The
Why dost thou not suspect MY innocence as soon?” “Be place was suited to meditation. A grove of full-grown
satisfied Madam (replied he) I do suspect it, and there- Elms sheltered us from the East—. A Bed of full-grown
fore must desire that you will both leave this House in Nettles from the West—. Before us ran the murmuring
less than half an hour.” brook and behind us ran the turn-pike road. We were
“We shall go willingly; (answered Sophia) our hearts in a mood for contemplation and in a Disposition to enjoy
have long detested thee, and nothing but our freindship so beautifull a spot. A mutual silence which had for some
for thy Daughter could have induced us to remain so time reigned between us, was at length broke by my ex-
long beneath thy roof.” claiming—”What a lovely scene! Alas why are not Ed-
“Your Freindship for my Daughter has indeed been ward and Augustus here to enjoy its Beauties with us?”
most powerfully exerted by throwing her into the arms “Ah! my beloved Laura (cried Sophia) for pity’s sake
of an unprincipled Fortune-hunter.” (replied he) forbear recalling to my remembrance the unhappy situ-
“Yes, (exclaimed I) amidst every misfortune, it will af- ation of my imprisoned Husband. Alas, what would I
ford us some consolation to reflect that by this one act not give to learn the fate of my Augustus! to know if he
of Freindship to Janetta, we have amply discharged ev- is still in Newgate, or if he is yet hung. But never shall I
ery obligation that we have received from her father.” be able so far to conquer my tender sensibility as to en-

Love and Friendship
quire after him. Oh! do not I beseech you ever let me the azure varied by those delicate streaks of white!”
again hear you repeat his beloved name—. It affects me “Oh! my Laura (replied she hastily withdrawing her
too deeply —. I cannot bear to hear him mentioned it Eyes from a momentary glance at the sky) do not thus
wounds my feelings.” distress me by calling my Attention to an object which so
“Excuse me my Sophia for having thus unwillingly of- cruelly reminds me of my Augustus’s blue sattin waist-
fended you—” replied I—and then changing the con- coat striped in white! In pity to your unhappy freind
versation, desired her to admire the noble Grandeur of avoid a subject so distressing.” What could I do? The feel-
the Elms which sheltered us from the Eastern Zephyr. ings of Sophia were at that time so exquisite, and the ten-
“Alas! my Laura (returned she) avoid so melancholy a derness she felt for Augustus so poignant that I had not
subject, I intreat you. Do not again wound my Sensibil- power to start any other topic, justly fearing that it might
ity by observations on those elms. They remind me of in some unforseen manner again awaken all her sensibil-
Augustus. He was like them, tall, magestic—he possessed ity by directing her thoughts to her Husband. Yet to be
that noble grandeur which you admire in them.” silent would be cruel; she had intreated me to talk.
I was silent, fearfull lest I might any more unwillingly From this Dilemma I was most fortunately releived by
distress her by fixing on any other subject of conversa- an accident truly apropos; it was the lucky overturning
tion which might again remind her of Augustus. of a Gentleman’s Phaeton, on the road which ran mur-
“Why do you not speak my Laura? (said she after a muring behind us. It was a most fortunate accident as
short pause) “I cannot support this silence you must not it diverted the attention of Sophia from the melancholy
leave me to my own reflections; they ever recur to reflections which she had been before indulging. We
Augustus.” instantly quitted our seats and ran to the rescue of those
“What a beautifull sky! (said I) How charmingly is who but a few moments before had been in so elevated

Jane Austen
a situation as a fashionably high Phaeton, but who were should have been more sparing of our Greif—but as we
now laid low and sprawling in the Dust. “What an ample had supposed when we first beheld them that they were
subject for reflection on the uncertain Enjoyments of no more, we knew that nothing could remain to be done
this World, would not that Phaeton and the Life of Car- but what we were about. No sooner did we therefore
dinal Wolsey afford a thinking Mind!” said I to Sophia hear my Edward’s groan than postponing our lamenta-
as we were hastening to the field of Action. tions for the present, we hastily ran to the Dear Youth
She had not time to answer me, for every thought was and kneeling on each side of him implored him not to
now engaged by the horrid spectacle before us. Two die—. “Laura (said He fixing his now languid Eyes on
Gentlemen most elegantly attired but weltering in their me) I fear I have been overturned.”
blood was what first struck our Eyes—we approached— I was overjoyed to find him yet sensible.
they were Edward and Augustus—. Yes dearest “Oh! tell me Edward (said I) tell me I beseech you
Marianne they were our Husbands. Sophia shreiked before you die, what has befallen you since that unhappy
and fainted on the ground—I screamed and instantly Day in which Augustus was arrested and we were sepa-
ran mad—. We remained thus mutually deprived of rated—”
our senses, some minutes, and on regaining them were “I will” (said he) and instantly fetching a deep sigh, Ex-
deprived of them again. For an Hour and a Quarter pired —. Sophia immediately sank again into a swoon—.
did we continue in this unfortunate situation—Sophia My greif was more audible. My Voice faltered, My Eyes
fainting every moment and I running mad as often. At assumed a vacant stare, my face became as pale as Death,
length a groan from the hapless Edward (who alone re- and my senses were considerably impaired—.
tained any share of life) restored us to ourselves. Had “Talk not to me of Phaetons (said I, raving in a fran-
we indeed before imagined that either of them lived, we tic, incoherent manner)—Give me a violin—. I’ll play

Love and Friendship
to him and sooth him in his melancholy Hours—Beware the House where we were greatly cheered by the sight
ye gentle Nymphs of Cupid’s Thunderbolts, avoid the of a comfortable fire—. She was a widow and had only
piercing shafts of Jupiter—Look at that grove of Firs—I one Daughter, who was then just seventeen—One of the
see a Leg of Mutton—They told me Edward was not best of ages; but alas! she was very plain and her name
Dead; but they deceived me—they took him for a cu- was Bridget…. Nothing therfore could be expected from
cumber —” Thus I continued wildly exclaiming on my her—she could not be supposed to possess either exalted
Edward’s Death—. For two Hours did I rave thus madly Ideas, Delicate Feelings or refined Sensibilities—. She
and should not then have left off, as I was not in the was nothing more than a mere good-tempered, civil and
least fatigued, had not Sophia who was just recovered obliging young woman; as such we could scarcely dis-
from her swoon, intreated me to consider that Night was like here—she was only an Object of Contempt —.
now approaching and that the Damps began to fall.
“And whither shall we go (said I) to shelter us from ei- Adeiu, Laura.
ther?” “To that white Cottage.” (replied she pointing to
a neat Building which rose up amidst the grove of Elms
and which I had not before observed—) I agreed and
we instantly walked to it—we knocked at the door—it
was opened by an old woman; on being requested to
afford us a Night’s Lodging, she informed us that her
House was but small, that she had only two Bedrooms,
but that However we should be wellcome to one of them.
We were satisfied and followed the good woman into

Jane Austen
Letter the 14th Laura in continuation fits of frenzy had so effectually circulated and warmed
my Blood as to make me proof against the chilling Damps
Arm yourself my amiable young Freind with all the phi- of Night, whereas, Sophia lying totally inactive on the
losophy you are Mistress of; summon up all the forti- ground must have been exposed to all their severity. I
tude you possess, for alas! in the perusal of the follow- was most seriously alarmed by her illness which trifling
ing Pages your sensibility will be most severely tried. Ah! as it may appear to you, a certain instinctive sensibility
what were the misfortunes I had before experienced and whispered me, would in the End be fatal to her.
which I have already related to you, to the one I am Alas! my fears were but too fully justified; she grew
now going to inform you of. The Death of my Father gradually worse—and I daily became more alarmed for
and my Mother and my Husband though almost more her. At length she was obliged to confine herself solely
than my gentle Nature could support, were trifles in com- to the Bed allotted us by our worthy Landlady—. Her
parison to the misfortune I am now proceeding to re- disorder turned to a galloping Consumption and in a
late. The morning after our arrival at the Cottage, few days carried her off. Amidst all my Lamentations
Sophia complained of a violent pain in her delicate limbs, for her (and violent you may suppose they were) I yet
accompanied with a disagreable Head-ake She attrib- received some consolation in the reflection of my hav-
uted it to a cold caught by her continued faintings in ing paid every attention to her, that could be offered, in
the open air as the Dew was falling the Evening before. her illness. I had wept over her every Day—had bathed
This I feared was but too probably the case; since how her sweet face with my tears and had pressed her fair
could it be otherwise accounted for that I should have Hands continually in mine—. “My beloved Laura (said
escaped the same indisposition, but by supposing that she to me a few Hours before she died) take warning
the bodily Exertions I had undergone in my repeated from my unhappy End and avoid the imprudent con-

Love and Friendship
duct which had occasioned it…. Beware of fainting- some pitying Freind who would receive and comfort me
fits…. Though at the time they may be refreshing and in my afflictions.
agreable yet beleive me they will in the end, if too often It was so dark when I entered the Coach that I could
repeated and at improper seasons, prove destructive to not distinguish the Number of my Fellow-travellers; I
your Constitution. . . My fate will teach you this. . I die could only perceive that they were many. Regardless
a Martyr to my greif for the loss of Augustus. . One fatal however of anything concerning them, I gave myself up
swoon has cost me my Life. . Beware of swoons Dear to my own sad Reflections. A general silence prevailed—
Laura…. A frenzy fit is not one quarter so pernicious; it A silence, which was by nothing interrupted but by the
is an exercise to the Body and if not too violent, is I dare loud and repeated snores of one of the Party.
say conducive to Health in its consequences—Run mad “What an illiterate villain must that man be! (thought
as often as you chuse; but do not faint—” I to myself) What a total want of delicate refinement
These were the last words she ever addressed to me. . must he have, who can thus shock our senses by such a
It was her dieing Advice to her afflicted Laura, who has brutal noise! He must I am certain be capable of every
ever most faithfully adhered to it. bad action! There is no crime too black for such a Char-
After having attended my lamented freind to her Early acter!” Thus reasoned I within myself, and doubtless
Grave, I immediately (tho’ late at night) left the detested such were the reflections of my fellow travellers.
Village in which she died, and near which had expired At length, returning Day enabled me to behold the
my Husband and Augustus. I had not walked many unprincipled Scoundrel who had so violently disturbed
yards from it before I was overtaken by a stage-coach, my feelings. It was Sir Edward the father of my De-
in which I instantly took a place, determined to proceed ceased Husband. By his side sate Augusta, and on the
in it to Edinburgh, where I hoped to find some kind same seat with me were your Mother and Lady

Jane Austen
Dorothea. Imagine my surprise at finding myself thus glory in being the Heiress of Sir Edward’s fortune.”
seated amongst my old Acquaintance. Great as was my Although I had always despised her from the Day I
astonishment, it was yet increased, when on looking out had overheard her conversation with my Edward, yet
of Windows, I beheld the Husband of Philippa, with in civility I complied with hers and Sir Edward’s
Philippa by his side, on the Coachbox and when on look- intreaties that I would inform them of the whole melan-
ing behind I beheld, Philander and Gustavus in the choly affair. They were greatly shocked—even the ob-
Basket. “Oh! Heavens, (exclaimed I) is it possible that I durate Heart of Sir Edward and the insensible one of
should so unexpectedly be surrounded by my nearest Augusta, were touched with sorrow, by the unhappy tale.
Relations and Connections?” These words roused the At the request of your Mother I related to them every
rest of the Party, and every eye was directed to the cor- other misfortune which had befallen me since we parted.
ner in which I sat. “Oh! my Isabel (continued I throw- Of the imprisonment of Augustus and the absence of
ing myself across Lady Dorothea into her arms) receive Edward—of our arrival in Scotland—of our unexpected
once more to your Bosom the unfortunate Laura. Alas! Meeting with our Grand-father and our cousins—of our
when we last parted in the Vale of Usk, I was happy in visit to Macdonald-Hall—of the singular service we there
being united to the best of Edwards; I had then a Father performed towards Janetta—of her Fathers ingratitude
and a Mother, and had never known misfortunes—But for it . . of his inhuman Behaviour, unaccountable sus-
now deprived of every freind but you—” picions, and barbarous treatment of us, in obliging us
“What! (interrupted Augusta) is my Brother dead to leave the House … of our lamentations on the loss of
then? Tell us I intreat you what is become of him?” Edward and Augustus and finally of the melancholy
“Yes, cold and insensible Nymph, (replied I) that luck- Death of my beloved Companion.
less swain your Brother, is no more, and you may now Pity and surprise were strongly depictured in your

Love and Friendship
Mother’s countenance, during the whole of my narra- ful scenes it exhibited in that part of the World had been
tion, but I am sorry to say, that to the eternal reproach so much raised by Gilpin’s Tour to the Highlands, that
of her sensibility, the latter infinitely predominated. Nay, she had prevailed on her Father to undertake a Tour to
faultless as my conduct had certainly been during the Scotland and had persuaded Lady Dorothea to accom-
whole course of my late misfortunes and adventures, she pany them. That they had arrived at Edinburgh a few
pretended to find fault with my behaviour in many of Days before and from thence had made daily Excur-
the situations in which I had been placed. As I was sions into the Country around in the Stage Coach they
sensible myself, that I had always behaved in a manner were then in, from one of which Excursions they were at
which reflected Honour on my Feelings and Refinement, that time returning. My next enquiries were concern-
I paid little attention to what she said, and desired her ing Philippa and her Husband, the latter of whom I
to satisfy my Curiosity by informing me how she came learned having spent all her fortune, had recourse for
there, instead of wounding my spotless reputation with subsistence to the talent in which, he had always most
unjustifiable Reproaches. As soon as she had complyed excelled, namely, Driving, and that having sold every
with my wishes in this particular and had given me an thing which belonged to them except their Coach, had
accurate detail of every thing that had befallen her since converted it into a Stage and in order to be removed
our separation (the particulars of which if you are not from any of his former Acquaintance, had driven it to
already acquainted with, your Mother will give you) I Edinburgh from whence he went to Sterling every other
applied to Augusta for the same information respecting Day. That Philippa still retaining her affection for her
herself, Sir Edward and Lady Dorothea. ungratefull Husband, had followed him to Scotland and
She told me that having a considerable taste for the generally accompanied him in his little Excursions to
Beauties of Nature, her curiosity to behold the delight- Sterling. “It has only been to throw a little money into

Jane Austen
their Pockets (continued Augusta) that my Father has Letter the 15th Laura in continuation.
always travelled in their Coach to veiw the beauties of
the Country since our arrival in Scotland —for it would When we arrived at the town where we were to Break-
certainly have been much more agreable to us, to visit fast, I was determined to speak with Philander and
the Highlands in a Postchaise than merely to travel from Gustavus, and to that purpose as soon as I left the Car-
Edinburgh to Sterling and from Sterling to Edinburgh riage, I went to the Basket and tenderly enquired after
every other Day in a crowded and uncomfortable Stage.” their Health, expressing my fears of the uneasiness of
I perfectly agreed with her in her sentiments on the af- their situation. At first they seemed rather confused at
fair, and secretly blamed Sir Edward for thus sacrific- my appearance dreading no doubt that I might call them
ing his Daughter’s Pleasure for the sake of a ridiculous to account for the money which our Grandfather had
old woman whose folly in marrying so young a man left me and which they had unjustly deprived me of,
ought to be punished. His Behaviour however was en- but finding that I mentioned nothing of the Matter, they
tirely of a peice with his general Character; for what desired me to step into the Basket as we might there con-
could be expected from a man who possessed not the verse with greater ease. Accordingly I entered and whilst
smallest atom of Sensibility, who scarcely knew the mean- the rest of the party were devouring green tea and but-
ing of simpathy, and who actually snored—. tered toast, we feasted ourselves in a more refined and
sentimental Manner by a confidential Conversation. I
Adeiu, Laura. informed them of every thing which had befallen me
during the course of my life, and at my request they
related to me every incident of theirs.
“We are the sons as you already know, of the two

Love and Friendship
youngest Daughters which Lord St Clair had by Laurina now determine, but certain it is that when we had
an italian opera girl. Our mothers could neither of them reached our 15th year, we took the nine Hundred Pounds
exactly ascertain who were our Father, though it is gen- and ran away. Having obtained this prize we were de-
erally beleived that Philander, is the son of one Philip termined to manage it with eoconomy and not to spend
Jones a Bricklayer and that my Father was one Gregory it either with folly or Extravagance. To this purpose we
Staves a Staymaker of Edinburgh. This is however of therefore divided it into nine parcels, one of which we
little consequence for as our Mothers were certainly devoted to Victuals, the 2d to Drink, the 3d to House-
never married to either of them it reflects no Dishonour keeping, the 4th to Carriages, the 5th to Horses, the 6th
on our Blood, which is of a most ancient and unpolluted to Servants, the 7th to Amusements, the 8th to Cloathes
kind. Bertha (the Mother of Philander) and Agatha (my and the 9th to Silver Buckles. Having thus arranged
own Mother) always lived together. They were neither our Expences for two months (for we expected to make
of them very rich; their united fortunes had originally the nine Hundred Pounds last as long) we hastened to
amounted to nine thousand Pounds, but as they had London and had the good luck to spend it in 7 weeks
always lived on the principal of it, when we were fifteen and a Day which was 6 Days sooner than we had in-
it was diminished to nine Hundred. This nine Hun- tended. As soon as we had thus happily disencumbered
dred they always kept in a Drawer in one of the Tables ourselves from the weight of so much money, we began
which stood in our common sitting Parlour, for the con- to think of returning to our Mothers, but accidentally
venience of having it always at Hand. Whether it was hearing that they were both starved to Death, we gave
from this circumstance, of its being easily taken, or from over the design and determined to engage ourselves to
a wish of being independant, or from an excess of sensi- some strolling Company of Players, as we had always a
bility (for which we were always remarkable) I cannot turn for the Stage. Accordingly we offered our services

Jane Austen
to one and were accepted; our Company was indeed the two Hundred Pounds, we instantly left the Town, leav-
rather small, as it consisted only of the Manager his wife ing our Manager and his Wife to act MacBeth by them-
and ourselves, but there were fewer to pay and the only selves, and took the road to Sterling, where we spent our
inconvenience attending it was the Scarcity of Plays little fortune with great eclat. We are now returning to
which for want of People to fill the Characters, we could Edinburgh in order to get some preferment in the Acting
perform. We did not mind trifles however—. One of way; and such my Dear Cousin is our History.”
our most admired Performances was MacBeth, in which I thanked the amiable Youth for his entertaining narra-
we were truly great. The Manager always played tion, and after expressing my wishes for their Welfare and
Banquo himself, his Wife my Lady MacBeth. I did the Happiness, left them in their little Habitation and returned
three witches and Philander acted all the rest. To say to my other Freinds who impatiently expected me.
the truth this tragedy was not only the Best, but the My adventures are now drawing to a close my dearest
only Play that we ever performed; and after having acted Marianne; at least for the present.
it all over England, and Wales, we came to Scotland to When we arrived at Edinburgh Sir Edward told me
exhibit it over the remainder of Great Britain. We hap- that as the Widow of his son, he desired I would accept
pened to be quartered in that very Town, where you from his Hands of four Hundred a year. I graciously
came and met your Grandfather—. We were in the Inn- promised that I would, but could not help observing
yard when his Carriage entered and perceiving by the that the unsimpathetic Baronet offered it more on ac-
arms to whom it belonged, and knowing that Lord St count of my being the Widow of Edward than in being
Clair was our Grandfather, we agreed to endeavour to the refined and amiable Laura.
get something from him by discovering the Relationship— I took up my Residence in a Romantic Village in the
. You know how well it succeeded—. Having obtained Highlands of Scotland where I have ever since contin-

Love and Friendship
ued, and where I can uninterrupted by unmeaning Vis- AN UNFINISHED NOVEL IN LETTERS
its, indulge in a melancholy solitude, my unceasing Lam-
entations for the Death of my Father, my Mother, my
Husband and my Freind. To Henry Thomas Austen Esqre.
Augusta has been for several years united to Graham
the Man of all others most suited to her; she became Sir
acquainted with him during her stay in Scotland.
Sir Edward in hopes of gaining an Heir to his Title and I am now availing myself of the Liberty you have fre-
Estate, at the same time married Lady Dorothea—. His quently honoured me with of dedicating one of my Nov-
wishes have been answered. els to you. That it is unfinished, I greive; yet fear that
Philander and Gustavus, after having raised their repu- from me, it will always remain so; that as far as it is car-
tation by their Performances in the Theatrical Line at ried, it should be so trifling and so unworthy of you, is
Edinburgh, removed to Covent Garden, where they still another concern to your obliged humble Servant
exhibit under the assumed names of Luvis and Quick.
Philippa has long paid the Debt of Nature, Her Hus- The Author
band however still continues to drive the Stage-Coach from
Edinburgh to Sterling:—Adeiu my Dearest Marianne.


Finis – June 13th 1790.

Jane Austen
Messrs Demand and Co—please to pay Jane Austen LESLEY C AS
Spinster the sum of one hundred guineas on account of
your Humble Servant.

H. T. Austen LETTER tthe

FIRST T is from Miss MAR
o Miss C
£105. 0. 0. Lesley
Lesle Castle
y Cas Janry
tle Janr 3rd—1
y 3r d—1792.

My Brother has just left us. “Matilda (said he at part-

ing) you and Margaret will I am certain take all the care
of my dear little one, that she might have received from
an indulgent, and affectionate and amiable Mother.”
Tears rolled down his cheeks as he spoke these words—
the remembrance of her, who had so wantonly disgraced
the Maternal character and so openly violated the con-
jugal Duties, prevented his adding anything farther; he
embraced his sweet Child and after saluting Matilda and
Me hastily broke from us and seating himself in his
Chaise, pursued the road to Aberdeen. Never was there
a better young Man! Ah! how little did he deserve the
misfortunes he has experienced in the Marriage state.

Love and Friendship
So good a Husband to so bad a Wife! for you know my no one but the M’Leods, The M’Kenzies, the
dear Charlotte that the Worthless Louisa left him, her M’Phersons, the M’Cartneys, the M’Donalds, The
Child and reputation a few weeks ago in company with M’kinnons, the M’lellans, the M’kays, the Macbeths and
Danvers and dishonour. Never was there a sweeter face, the Macduffs) we are neither dull nor unhappy; on the
a finer form, or a less amiable Heart than Louisa owned! contrary there never were two more lively, more agreable
Her child already possesses the personal Charms of her or more witty girls, than we are; not an hour in the Day
unhappy Mother! May she inherit from her Father all hangs heavy on our Hands. We read, we work, we walk,
his mental ones! Lesley is at present but five and twenty, and when fatigued with these Employments releive our
and has already given himself up to melancholy and spirits, either by a lively song, a graceful Dance, or by
Despair; what a difference between him and his Father! some smart bon-mot, and witty repartee. We are hand-
Sir George is 57 and still remains the Beau, the flighty some my dear Charlotte, very handsome and the great-
stripling, the gay Lad, and sprightly Youngster, that his est of our Perfections is, that we are entirely insensible
Son was really about five years back, and that HE has of them ourselves. But why do I thus dwell on myself!
affected to appear ever since my remembrance. While Let me rather repeat the praise of our dear little Neice
our father is fluttering about the streets of London, gay, the innocent Louisa, who is at present sweetly smiling in
dissipated, and Thoughtless at the age of 57, Matilda a gentle Nap, as she reposes on the sofa. The dear Crea-
and I continue secluded from Mankind in our old and ture is just turned of two years old; as handsome as tho’
Mouldering Castle, which is situated two miles from 2 and 20, as sensible as tho’ 2 and 30, and as prudent as
Perth on a bold projecting Rock, and commands an tho’ 2 and 40. To convince you of this, I must inform
extensive veiw of the Town and its delightful Environs. you that she has a very fine complexion and very pretty
But tho’ retired from almost all the World, (for we visit features, that she already knows the two first letters in

Jane Austen
the Alphabet, and that she never tears her frocks—. If I of Air will heal the Wounds of a broken Heart! You will
have not now convinced you of her Beauty, Sense and join with me I am certain my dear Charlotte, in prayers
Prudence, I have nothing more to urge in support of for the recovery of the unhappy Lesley’s peace of Mind,
my assertion, and you will therefore have no way of de- which must ever be essential to that of your sincere freind
ciding the Affair but by coming to Lesley-Castle, and
by a personal acquaintance with Louisa, determine for M. Lesley.
yourself. Ah! my dear Freind, how happy should I be to
see you within these venerable Walls! It is now four years
since my removal from School has separated me from LETTER tthe
SECOND Frrom Miss C.
you; that two such tender Hearts, so closely linked to- LUTTERELL tto answer
o Miss M. LESLEY in answ er..
gether by the ties of simpathy and Freindship, should Glenfor
Glenf ord
or d FFebr
ebr 12
be so widely removed from each other, is vastly moving.
I live in Perthshire, You in Sussex. We might meet in I have a thousand excuses to beg for having so long de-
London, were my Father disposed to carry me there, layed thanking you my dear Peggy for your agreable
and were your Mother to be there at the same time. We Letter, which beleive me I should not have deferred do-
might meet at Bath, at Tunbridge, or anywhere else in- ing, had not every moment of my time during the last
deed, could we but be at the same place together. We five weeks been so fully employed in the necessary ar-
have only to hope that such a period may arrive. My rangements for my sisters wedding, as to allow me no
Father does not return to us till Autumn; my Brother time to devote either to you or myself. And now what
will leave Scotland in a few Days; he is impatient to travel. provokes me more than anything else is that the Match
Mistaken Youth! He vainly flatters himself that change is broke off, and all my Labour thrown away. Imagine

Love and Friendship
how great the Dissapointment must be to me, when you my poor Sister fall down to appearance Lifeless upon
consider that after having laboured both by Night and one of the Chests, where we keep our Table linen. I im-
by Day, in order to get the Wedding dinner ready by the mediately called my Mother and the Maids, and at last
time appointed, after having roasted Beef, Broiled Mut- we brought her to herself again; as soon as ever she was
ton, and Stewed Soup enough to last the new-married sensible, she expressed a determination of going instantly
Couple through the Honey-moon, I had the mortifica- to Henry, and was so wildly bent on this Scheme, that
tion of finding that I had been Roasting, Broiling and we had the greatest Difficulty in the World to prevent
Stewing both the Meat and Myself to no purpose. In- her putting it in execution; at last however more by Force
deed my dear Freind, I never remember suffering any than Entreaty we prevailed on her to go into her room;
vexation equal to what I experienced on last Monday we laid her upon the Bed, and she continued for some
when my sister came running to me in the store-room Hours in the most dreadful Convulsions. My Mother
with her face as White as a Whipt syllabub, and told me and I continued in the room with her, and when any
that Hervey had been thrown from his Horse, had frac- intervals of tolerable Composure in Eloisa would allow
tured his Scull and was pronounced by his surgeon to us, we joined in heartfelt lamentations on the dreadful
be in the most emminent Danger. “Good God! (said I) Waste in our provisions which this Event must occasion,
you dont say so? Why what in the name of Heaven will and in concerting some plan for getting rid of them. We
become of all the Victuals! We shall never be able to eat agreed that the best thing we could do was to begin eat-
it while it is good. However, we’ll call in the Surgeon to ing them immediately, and accordingly we ordered up
help us. I shall be able to manage the Sir-loin myself, the cold Ham and Fowls, and instantly began our De-
my Mother will eat the soup, and You and the Doctor vouring Plan on them with great Alacrity. We would
must finish the rest.” Here I was interrupted, by seeing have persuaded Eloisa to have taken a Wing of a

Jane Austen
Chicken, but she would not be persuaded. She was how- than a fortnight.” Thus I did all in my power to console
ever much quieter than she had been; the convulsions her, but without any effect, and at last as I saw that she
she had before suffered having given way to an almost did not seem to listen to me, I said no more, but leaving
perfect Insensibility. We endeavoured to rouse her by her with my Mother I took down the remains of The
every means in our power, but to no purpose. I talked Ham and Chicken, and sent William to ask how Henry
to her of Henry. “Dear Eloisa (said I) there’s no occa- did. He was not expected to live many Hours; he died
sion for your crying so much about such a trifle. (for I the same day. We took all possible care to break the
was willing to make light of it in order to comfort her) I melancholy Event to Eloisa in the tenderest manner; yet
beg you would not mind it—You see it does not vex me in spite of every precaution, her sufferings on hearing it
in the least; though perhaps I may suffer most from it were too violent for her reason, and she continued for
after all; for I shall not only be obliged to eat up all the many hours in a high Delirium. She is still extremely ill,
Victuals I have dressed already, but must if Henry and her Physicians are greatly afraid of her going into a
should recover (which however is not very likely) dress Decline. We are therefore preparing for Bristol, where
as much for you again; or should he die (as I suppose he we mean to be in the course of the next week. And now
will) I shall still have to prepare a Dinner for you when- my dear Margaret let me talk a little of your affairs; and
ever you marry any one else. So you see that tho’ per- in the first place I must inform you that it is confidently
haps for the present it may afflict you to think of Henry’s reported, your Father is going to be married; I am very
sufferings, Yet I dare say he’ll die soon, and then his unwilling to beleive so unpleasing a report, and at the
pain will be over and you will be easy, whereas my same time cannot wholly discredit it. I have written to
Trouble will last much longer for work as hard as I may, my freind Susan Fitzgerald, for information concerning
I am certain that the pantry cannot be cleared in less it, which as she is at present in Town, she will be very

Love and Friendship
able to give me. I know not who is the Lady. I think the report of Sir George Lesleys Marriage, to any one
your Brother is extremely right in the resolution he has better able to give it you than I am. Sir George is cer-
taken of travelling, as it will perhaps contribute to oblit- tainly married; I was myself present at the Ceremony,
erate from his remembrance, those disagreable Events, which you will not be surprised at when I subscribe
which have lately so much afflicted him— I am happy myself your
to find that tho’ secluded from all the World, neither
you nor Matilda are dull or unhappy —that you may Affectionate Susan Lesley
never know what it is to, be either is the wish of your
sincerely affectionate
C.L. LESLEY to Miss C. LUTTERELL Lesley Castle Feb-
ruary the 16th
P. S. I have this instant received an answer from my
freind Susan, which I enclose to you, and on which you I have made my own reflections on the letter you en-
will make your own reflections. closed to me, my Dear Charlotte and I will now tell you
what those reflections were. I reflected that if by this
The enclosed LETTER second Marriage Sir George should have a second fam-
ily, our fortunes must be considerably diminushed—that
My dear Charlotte if his Wife should be of an extravagant turn, she would
encourage him to persevere in that gay and Dissipated
You could not have applied for information concerning way of Life to which little encouragement would be nec-

Jane Austen
essary, and which has I fear already proved but too det- chearfull manner, says that the air of France has greatly
rimental to his health and fortune—that she would now recovered both his Health and Spirits; that he has now
become Mistress of those Jewels which once adorned entirely ceased to think of Louisa with any degree either
our Mother, and which Sir George had always prom- of Pity or Affection, that he even feels himself obliged to
ised us—that if they did not come into Perthshire I should her for her Elopement, as he thinks it very good fun to
not be able to gratify my curiosity of beholding my be single again. By this, you may perceive that he has
Mother-in-law and that if they did, Matilda would no entirely regained that chearful Gaiety, and sprightly Wit,
longer sit at the head of her Father’s table—. These my for which he was once so remarkable. When he first
dear Charlotte were the melancholy reflections which became acquainted with Louisa which was little more
crowded into my imagination after perusing Susan’s let- than three years ago, he was one of the most lively, the
ter to you, and which instantly occurred to Matilda when most agreable young Men of the age—. I beleive you
she had perused it likewise. The same ideas, the same never yet heard the particulars of his first acquaintance
fears, immediately occupied her Mind, and I know not with her. It commenced at our cousin Colonel
which reflection distressed her most, whether the prob- Drummond’s; at whose house in Cumberland he spent
able Diminution of our Fortunes, or her own Conse- the Christmas, in which he attained the age of two and
quence. We both wish very much to know whether Lady twenty. Louisa Burton was the Daughter of a distant
Lesley is handsome and what is your opinion of her; as Relation of Mrs. Drummond, who dieing a few Months
you honour her with the appellation of your freind, we before in extreme poverty, left his only Child then about
flatter ourselves that she must be amiable. My Brother eighteen to the protection of any of his Relations who
is already in Paris. He intends to quit it in a few Days, would protect her. Mrs. Drummond was the only one
and to begin his route to Italy. He writes in a most who found herself so disposed—Louisa was therefore

Love and Friendship
removed from a miserable Cottage in Yorkshire to an when the hapless Lesley first beheld her at Drummond-
elegant Mansion in Cumberland, and from every pecu- house. His heart which (to use your favourite compari-
niary Distress that Poverty could inflict, to every elegant son) was as delicate as sweet and as tender as a Whipt-
Enjoyment that Money could purchase—. Louisa was syllabub, could not resist her attractions. In a very few
naturally ill-tempered and Cunning; but she had been Days, he was falling in love, shortly after actually fell,
taught to disguise her real Disposition, under the ap- and before he had known her a Month, he had married
pearance of insinuating Sweetness, by a father who but her. My Father was at first highly displeased at so hasty
too well knew, that to be married, would be the only and imprudent a connection; but when he found that
chance she would have of not being starved, and who they did not mind it, he soon became perfectly recon-
flattered himself that with such an extroidinary share ciled to the match. The Estate near Aberdeen which
of personal beauty, joined to a gentleness of Manners, my brother possesses by the bounty of his great Uncle
and an engaging address, she might stand a good chance independant of Sir George, was entirely sufficient to
of pleasing some young Man who might afford to marry support him and my Sister in Elegance and Ease. For
a girl without a Shilling. Louisa perfectly entered into the first twelvemonth, no one could be happier than
her father’s schemes and was determined to forward Lesley, and no one more amiable to appearance than
them with all her care and attention. By dint of Perse- Louisa, and so plausibly did she act and so cautiously
verance and Application, she had at length so thor- behave that tho’ Matilda and I often spent several weeks
oughly disguised her natural disposition under the mask together with them, yet we neither of us had any suspi-
of Innocence, and Softness, as to impose upon every cion of her real Disposition. After the birth of Louisa
one who had not by a long and constant intimacy with however, which one would have thought would have
her discovered her real Character. Such was Louisa strengthened her regard for Lesley, the mask she had so

Jane Austen
long supported was by degrees thrown aside, and as LETTER tthe
he F OUR
OURTH Frrom Miss C.
probably she then thought herself secure in the affec- LUTTERELL tto o Miss M. LESLEY
tion of her Husband (which did indeed appear if pos- Bris
Br isttol
is Febr
ebr uary
uar 27t
7t h
sible augmented by the birth of his Child) she seemed
to take no pains to prevent that affection from ever My Dear Peggy
diminushing. Our visits therefore to Dunbeath, were
now less frequent and by far less agreable than they I have but just received your letter, which being directed
used to be. Our absence was however never either men- to Sussex while I was at Bristol was obliged to be for-
tioned or lamented by Louisa who in the society of young warded to me here, and from some unaccountable De-
Danvers with whom she became acquainted at Aber- lay, has but this instant reached me—. I return you many
deen (he was at one of the Universities there,) felt infi- thanks for the account it contains of Lesley’s acquain-
nitely happier than in that of Matilda and your freind, tance, Love and Marriage with Louisa, which has not
tho’ there certainly never were pleasanter girls than we the less entertained me for having often been repeated
are. You know the sad end of all Lesleys connubial hap- to me before.
piness; I will not repeat it—. Adeiu my dear Charlotte; I have the satisfaction of informing you that we have
although I have not yet mentioned anything of the mat- every reason to imagine our pantry is by this time nearly
ter, I hope you will do me the justice to beleive that I cleared, as we left Particular orders with the servants to
think and feel, a great deal for your Sisters affliction. I eat as hard as they possibly could, and to call in a couple
do not doubt but that the healthy air of the Bristol downs of Chairwomen to assist them. We brought a cold Pi-
will intirely remove it, by erasing from her Mind the re- geon pye, a cold turkey, a cold tongue, and half a dozen
membrance of Henry. I am my dear Charlotte yrs ever Jellies with us, which we were lucky enough with the
M. L.
Love and Friendship
help of our Landlady, her husband, and their three chil- little affection should be my particular freind; but to tell
dren, to get rid of, in less than two days after our ar- you the truth, our freindship arose rather from Caprice
rival. Poor Eloisa is still so very indifferent both in Health on her side than Esteem on mine. We spent two or three
and Spirits, that I very much fear, the air of the Bristol days together with a Lady in Berkshire with whom we
downs, healthy as it is, has not been able to drive poor both happened to be connected—. During our visit, the
Henry from her remembrance. Weather being remarkably bad, and our party particu-
You ask me whether your new Mother in law is hand- larly stupid, she was so good as to conceive a violent
some and amiable—I will now give you an exact descrip- partiality for me, which very soon settled in a downright
tion of her bodily and mental charms. She is short, and Freindship and ended in an established correspondence.
extremely well made; is naturally pale, but rouges a good She is probably by this time as tired of me, as I am of
deal; has fine eyes, and fine teeth, as she will take care her; but as she is too Polite and I am too civil to say so,
to let you know as soon as she sees you, and is altogether our letters are still as frequent and affectionate as ever,
very pretty. She is remarkably good-tempered when she and our Attachment as firm and sincere as when it first
has her own way, and very lively when she is not out of commenced. As she had a great taste for the pleasures
humour. She is naturally extravagant and not very af- of London, and of Brighthelmstone, she will I dare say
fected; she never reads anything but the letters she re- find some difficulty in prevailing on herself even to sat-
ceives from me, and never writes anything but her an- isfy the curiosity I dare say she feels of beholding you,
swers to them. She plays, sings and Dances, but has no at the expence of quitting those favourite haunts of Dis-
taste for either, and excells in none, tho’ she says she is sipation, for the melancholy tho’ venerable gloom of the
passionately fond of all. Perhaps you may flatter me so castle you inhabit. Perhaps however if she finds her
far as to be surprised that one of whom I speak with so health impaired by too much amusement, she may ac-

Jane Austen
quire fortitude sufficient to undertake a Journey to Scot- Mrs Marlowe are very agreable people; the ill health of
land in the hope of its Proving at least beneficial to her their little boy occasioned their arrival here; you may
health, if not conducive to her happiness. Your fears I imagine that being the only family with whom we can
am sorry to say, concerning your father’s extravagance, converse, we are of course on a footing of intimacy with
your own fortunes, your Mothers Jewels and your Sister’s them; we see them indeed almost every day, and dined
consequence, I should suppose are but too well founded. with them yesterday. We spent a very pleasant Day,
My freind herself has four thousand pounds, and will and had a very good Dinner, tho’ to be sure the Veal
probably spend nearly as much every year in Dress and was terribly underdone, and the Curry had no season-
Public places, if she can get it—she will certainly not ing. I could not help wishing all dinner-time that I had
endeavour to reclaim Sir George from the manner of been at the dressing it—. A brother of Mrs Marlowe,
living to which he has been so long accustomed, and Mr Cleveland is with them at present; he is a good-look-
there is therefore some reason to fear that you will be ing young Man, and seems to have a good deal to say
very well off, if you get any fortune at all. The Jewels I for himself. I tell Eloisa that she should set her cap at
should imagine too will undoubtedly be hers, and there him, but she does not at all seem to relish the proposal.
is too much reason to think that she will preside at her I should like to see the girl married and Cleveland has a
Husbands table in preference to his Daughter. But as so very good estate. Perhaps you may wonder that I do
melancholy a subject must necessarily extremely distress not consider myself as well as my Sister in my matrimo-
you, I will no longer dwell on it—. nial Projects; but to tell you the truth I never wish to act
Eloisa’s indisposition has brought us to Bristol at so a more principal part at a Wedding than the superin-
unfashionable a season of the year, that we have actu- tending and directing the Dinner, and therefore while I
ally seen but one genteel family since we came. Mr and can get any of my acquaintance to marry for me, I shall

Love and Friendship
never think of doing it myself, as I very much suspect be delighted at such a mark of condescension as a visit
that I should not have so much time for dressing my from Sir George and Lady Lesley, we prepared to re-
own Wedding-dinner, as for dressing that of my freinds. turn them an answer expressive of the happiness we
enjoyed in expectation of such a Blessing, when luckily
Yours sincerely recollecting that as they were to reach the Castle the
C. L. next Evening, it would be impossible for my father to
receive it before he left Edinburgh, we contented our-
selves with leaving them to suppose that we were as
LETTER the FIFTH Miss MARGARET LESLEY to happy as we ought to be. At nine in the Evening on the
Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL Lesley-Castle following day, they came, accompanied by one of Lady
March 18th Lesleys brothers. Her Ladyship perfectly answers the
description you sent me of her, except that I do not think
On the same day that I received your last kind letter, her so pretty as you seem to consider her. She has not a
Matilda received one from Sir George which was dated bad face, but there is something so extremely unmajestic
from Edinburgh, and informed us that he should do in her little diminutive figure, as to render her in com-
himself the pleasure of introducing Lady Lesley to us parison with the elegant height of Matilda and Myself,
on the following evening. This as you may suppose con- an insignificant Dwarf. Her curiosity to see us (which
siderably surprised us, particularly as your account of must have been great to bring her more than four hun-
her Ladyship had given us reason to imagine there was dred miles) being now perfectly gratified, she already
little chance of her visiting Scotland at a time that Lon- begins to mention their return to town, and has desired
don must be so gay. As it was our business however to us to accompany her. We cannot refuse her request since

Jane Austen
it is seconded by the commands of our Father, and cessible, that I expected to have been pulled up by a
thirded by the entreaties of Mr. Fitzgerald who is cer- rope; and sincerely repented having gratified my curi-
tainly one of the most pleasing young Men, I ever be- osity to behold my Daughters at the expence of being
held. It is not yet determined when we are to go, but obliged to enter their prison in so dangerous and ridicu-
when ever we do we shall certainly take our little Louisa lous a manner. But as soon as I once found myself safely
with us. Adeiu my dear Charlotte; Matilda unites in best arrived in the inside of this tremendous building, I com-
wishes to you, and Eloisa, with yours ever forted myself with the hope of having my spirits revived,
by the sight of two beautifull girls, such as the Miss
M. L. Lesleys had been represented to me, at Edinburgh. But
here again, I met with nothing but Disappointment and
Surprise. Matilda and Margaret Lesley are two great,
ADY o Miss tall, out of the way, over-grown, girls, just of a proper
LUTTERELL size to inhabit a Castle almost as large in comparison as
-Castle Mar
Marcch 20t
20thh themselves. I wish my dear Charlotte that you could
but behold these Scotch giants; I am sure they would
We arrived here my sweet Freind about a fortnight ago, frighten you out of your wits. They will do very well as
and I already heartily repent that I ever left our charm- foils to myself, so I have invited them to accompany me
ing House in Portman-square for such a dismal old to London where I hope to be in the course of a fort-
weather-beaten Castle as this. You can form no idea night. Besides these two fair Damsels, I found a little
sufficiently hideous, of its dungeon-like form. It is actu- humoured Brat here who I beleive is some relation to
ally perched upon a Rock to appearance so totally inac- them, they told me who she was, and gave me a long

Love and Friendship
rigmerole story of her father and a Miss SOMEBODY had I been inclined to fall in love with any woman, I
which I have entirely forgot. I hate scandal and detest should not have made choice of Matilda Lesley for the
Children. I have been plagued ever since I came here object of my passion; for there is nothing I hate so much
with tiresome visits from a parcel of Scotch wretches, as a tall Woman: but however there is no accounting
with terrible hard-names; they were so civil, gave me so for some men’s taste and as William is himself nearly six
many invitations, and talked of coming again so soon, feet high, it is not wonderful that he should be partial to
that I could not help affronting them. I suppose I shall that height. Now as I have a very great affection for my
not see them any more, and yet as a family party we are Brother and should be extremely sorry to see him un-
so stupid, that I do not know what to do with myself. happy, which I suppose he means to be if he cannot
These girls have no Music, but Scotch airs, no Draw- marry Matilda, as moreover I know that his circum-
ings but Scotch Mountains, and no Books but Scotch stances will not allow him to marry any one without a
Poems—and I hate everything Scotch. In general I can fortune, and that Matilda’s is entirely dependant on her
spend half the Day at my toilett with a great deal of Father, who will neither have his own inclination nor
pleasure, but why should I dress here, since there is not my permission to give her anything at present, I thought
a creature in the House whom I have any wish to please. it would be doing a good-natured action by my Brother
I have just had a conversation with my Brother in which to let him know as much, in order that he might choose
he has greatly offended me, and which as I have noth- for himself, whether to conquer his passion, or Love and
ing more entertaining to send you I will gave you the Despair. Accordingly finding myself this Morning alone
particulars of. You must know that I have for these 4 or with him in one of the horrid old rooms of this Castle, I
5 Days past strongly suspected William of entertaining opened the cause to him in the following Manner.
a partiality to my eldest Daughter. I own indeed that “Well my dear William what do you think of these girls?

Jane Austen
for my part, I do not find them so plain as I expected: tainly is no proof of their Fathers beauty, for if they are
but perhaps you may think me partial to the Daughters perfectly unlike him and very handsome at the same
of my Husband and perhaps you are right— They are time, it is natural to suppose that he is very plain.”
indeed so very like Sir George that it is natural to “By no means, (said he) for what may be pretty in a
think”— Woman, may be very unpleasing in a Man.”
“My Dear Susan (cried he in a tone of the greatest “But you yourself (replied I) but a few minutes ago
amazement) You do not really think they bear the least allowed him to be very plain.”
resemblance to their Father! He is so very plain!—but I “Men are no Judges of Beauty in their own Sex.” (said
beg your pardon—I had entirely forgotten to whom I he).
was speaking—” “Neither Men nor Women can think Sir George toler-
“Oh! pray dont mind me; (replied I) every one knows able.”
Sir George is horribly ugly, and I assure you I always “Well, well, (said he) we will not dispute about his
thought him a fright.” Beauty, but your opinion of his duaghters is surely very
“You surprise me extremely (answered William) by singular, for if I understood you right, you said you did
what you say both with respect to Sir George and his not find them so plain as you expected to do!”
Daughters. You cannot think your Husband so deficient “Why, do you find them plainer then?” (said I).
in personal Charms as you speak of, nor can you surely “I can scarcely beleive you to be serious (returned he)
see any resemblance between him and the Miss Lesleys when you speak of their persons in so extroidinary a
who are in my opinion perfectly unlike him and per- Manner. Do not you think the Miss Lesleys are two very
fectly Handsome.” handsome young Women?”
“If that is your opinion with regard to the girls it cer- “Lord! No! (cried I) I think them terribly plain!”

Love and Friendship
“Plain! (replied He) My dear Susan, you cannot re- “Nay, (replied he) I know not whether you may not be
ally think so! Why what single Feature in the face of in the right in not attempting it, for perhaps they might
either of them, can you possibly find fault with?” dazzle you with their Lustre.”
“Oh! trust me for that; (replied I). Come I will begin “Oh! Certainly. (said I, with the greatest compla-
with the eldest—with Matilda. Shall I, William?” (I cency, for I assure you my dearest Charlotte I was not in
looked as cunning as I could when I said it, in order to the least offended tho’ by what followed, one would sup-
shame him). pose that William was conscious of having given me just
“They are so much alike (said he) that I should sup- cause to be so, for coming up to me and taking my hand,
pose the faults of one, would be the faults of both.” he said) “You must not look so grave Susan; you will
“Well, then, in the first place; they are both so horri- make me fear I have offended you!”
bly tall!” “Offended me! Dear Brother, how came such a
“They are taller than you are indeed.” (said he with a thought in your head! (returned I) No really! I assure
saucy smile.) you that I am not in the least surprised at your being so
“Nay, (said I), I know nothing of that.” warm an advocate for the Beauty of these girls “—
“Well, but (he continued) tho’ they may be above the “Well, but (interrupted William) remember that we
common size, their figures are perfectly elegant; and as have not yet concluded our dispute concerning them.
to their faces, their Eyes are beautifull.” What fault do you find with their complexion?”
“I never can think such tremendous, knock-me-down “They are so horridly pale.”
figures in the least degree elegant, and as for their eyes, “They have always a little colour, and after any exer-
they are so tall that I never could strain my neck enough cise it is considerably heightened.”
to look at them.” “Yes, but if there should ever happen to be any rain

Jane Austen
in this part of the world, they will never be able raise vexed by William’s glance, that I could not summon Pa-
more than their common stock—except indeed they tience enough, to stay and give him that advice respect-
amuse themselves with running up and Down these ing his attachment to Matilda which had first induced
horrid old galleries and Antichambers.” me from pure Love to him to begin the conversation;
“Well, (replied my Brother in a tone of vexation, and and I am now so thoroughly convinced by it, of his vio-
glancing an impertinent look at me) if they have but little lent passion for her, that I am certain he would never
colour, at least, it is all their own.” hear reason on the subject, and I shall there fore give
This was too much my dear Charlotte, for I am cer- myself no more trouble either about him or his favourite.
tain that he had the impudence by that look, of pre- Adeiu my dear girl—Yrs affectionately Susan L.
tending to suspect the reality of mine. But you I am
sure will vindicate my character whenever you may hear
it so cruelly aspersed, for you can witness how often I LETTER tthe
he SEVENTH F Frrom Miss C.
have protested against wearing Rouge, and how much I LUTTERELL ttoo Miss M. LESLEY
always told you I disliked it. And I assure you that my Br is
isttol tthe
Bris he 27t
7thh of Mar
opinions are still the same.—. Well, not bearing to be so
suspected by my Brother, I left the room immediately, I have received Letters from you and your Mother-in-
and have been ever since in my own Dressing-room writ- law within this week which have greatly entertained me,
ing to you. What a long letter have I made of it! But you as I find by them that you are both downright jealous
must not expect to receive such from me when I get to of each others Beauty. It is very odd that two pretty
Town; for it is only at Lesley castle, that one has time to Women tho’ actually Mother and Daughter cannot be
write even to a Charlotte Lutterell.—. I was so much in the same House without falling out about their faces.

Love and Friendship
Do be convinced that you are both perfectly handsome could sing a better song than she, and no one make a
and say no more of the Matter. I suppose this letter better Pye than I.— And so it has always continued since
must be directed to Portman Square where probably we have been no longer children. The only difference is
(great as is your affection for Lesley Castle) you will not that all disputes on the superior excellence of our Em-
be sorry to find yourself. In spite of all that people may ployments then so frequent are now no more. We have
say about Green fields and the Country I was always of for many years entered into an agreement always to
opinion that London and its amusements must be very admire each other’s works; I never fail listening to her
agreable for a while, and should be very happy could Music, and she is as constant in eating my pies. Such at
my Mother’s income allow her to jockey us into its Pub- least was the case till Henry Hervey made his appear-
lic-places, during Winter. I always longed particularly ance in Sussex. Before the arrival of his Aunt in our
to go to Vaux-hall, to see whether the cold Beef there is neighbourhood where she established herself you know
cut so thin as it is reported, for I have a sly suspicion about a twelvemonth ago, his visits to her had been at
that few people understand the art of cutting a slice of stated times, and of equal and settled Duration; but on
cold Beef so well as I do: nay it would be hard if I did her removal to the Hall which is within a walk from our
not know something of the Matter, for it was a part of House, they became both more frequent and longer.
my Education that I took by far the most pains with. This as you may suppose could not be pleasing to Mrs
Mama always found me her best scholar, tho’ when Papa Diana who is a professed enemy to everything which is
was alive Eloisa was his. Never to be sure were there two not directed by Decorum and Formality, or which bears
more different Dispositions in the World. We both loved the least resemblance to Ease and Good-breeding. Nay
Reading. She preferred Histories, and I Receipts. She so great was her aversion to her Nephews behaviour that
loved drawing, Pictures, and I drawing Pullets. No one I have often heard her give such hints of it before his

Jane Austen
face that had not Henry at such times been engaged in all of them as Eloisa told me expressive of my Admira-
conversation with Eloisa, they must have caught his At- tion; and so indeed I suppose they are, as I see some of
tention and have very much distressed him. The alter- them in every Page of every Music book, being the sen-
ation in my Sisters behaviour which I have before hinted timents I imagine of the composer.
at, now took place. The Agreement we had entered into I executed my Plan with great Punctuality. I can not
of admiring each others productions she no longer say success, for alas! my silence while she played seemed
seemed to regard, and tho’ I constantly applauded even not in the least to displease her; on the contrary she ac-
every Country-dance, she played, yet not even a tually said to me one day “ Well Charlotte, I am very
pidgeon-pye of my making could obtain from her a single glad to find that you have at last left off that ridiculous
word of approbation. This was certainly enough to put custom of applauding my Execution on the Harpsichord
any one in a Passion; however, I was as cool as a cream- till you made my head ake, and yourself hoarse. I feel
cheese and having formed my plan and concerted a very much obliged to you for keeping your admiration
scheme of Revenge, I was determined to let her have to yourself.” I never shall forget the very witty answer I
her own way and not even to make her a single reproach. made to this speech. “Eloisa (said I) I beg you would be
My scheme was to treat her as she treated me, and tho’ quite at your Ease with respect to all such fears in fu-
she might even draw my own Picture or play Malbrook ture, for be assured that I shall always keep my admira-
(which is the only tune I ever really liked) not to say so tion to myself and my own pursuits and never extend it
much as “Thank you Eloisa;” tho’ I had for many years to yours.” This was the only very severe thing I ever
constantly hollowed whenever she played, bravo, said in my Life; not but that I have often felt myself ex-
brvissimo, encore, da capo, allegretto, con expressione, tremely satirical but it was the only time I ever made my
and poco presto with many other such outlandish words, feelings public.

Love and Friendship
I suppose there never were two Young people who had The Marlowes are going to Town; Cliveland accompa-
a greater affection for each other than Henry and Eloisa; nies them; as neither Eloisa nor I could catch him I hope
no, the Love of your Brother for Miss Burton could not you or Matilda may have better Luck. I know not when
be so strong tho’ it might be more violent. You may we shall leave Bristol, Eloisa’s spirits are so low that she
imagine therefore how provoked my Sister must have is very averse to moving, and yet is certainly by no means
been to have him play her such a trick. Poor girl! she mended by her residence here. A week or two will I
still laments his Death with undiminished constancy, not- hope determine our Measures—in the mean time be-
withstanding he has been dead more than six weeks; lieve me and etc—and etc—Charlotte Lutterell.
but some People mind such things more than others.
The ill state of Health into which his loss has thrown
her makes her so weak, and so unable to support the LETTER tthe
least exertion, that she has been in tears all this Morn- to Mr
ing merely from having taken leave of Mrs. Marlowe Br
isttol Apr
is April 4th
il 4t h
who with her Husband, Brother and Child are to leave
Bristol this morning. I am sorry to have them go be- I feel myself greatly obliged to you my dear Emma for
cause they are the only family with whom we have here such a mark of your affection as I flatter myself was
any acquaintance, but I never thought of crying; to be conveyed in the proposal you made me of our Corre-
sure Eloisa and Mrs Marlowe have always been more sponding; I assure you that it will be a great releif to me
together than with me, and have therefore contracted a to write to you and as long as my Health and Spirits will
kind of affection for each other, which does not make allow me, you will find me a very constant correspon-
Tears so inexcusable in them as they would be in me. dent; I will not say an entertaining one, for you know

Jane Austen
my situation suffciently not to be ignorant that in me and I hope you will not think me girlishly romantic, when
Mirth would be improper and I know my own Heart I say that to have some kind and compassionate Freind
too well not to be sensible that it would be unnatural. who might listen to my sorrows without endeavouring
You must not expect news for we see no one with whom to console me was what I had for some time wished for,
we are in the least acquainted, or in whose proceedings when our acquaintance with you, the intimacy which
we have any Interest. You must not expect scandal for followed it and the particular affectionate attention you
by the same rule we are equally debarred either from paid me almost from the first, caused me to entertain
hearing or inventing it.—You must expect from me noth- the flattering Idea of those attentions being improved
ing but the melancholy effusions of a broken Heart on a closer acquaintance into a Freindship which, if you
which is ever reverting to the Happiness it once enjoyed were what my wishes formed you would be the greatest
and which ill supports its present wretchedness. The Happiness I could be capable of enjoying. To find that
Possibility of being able to write, to speak, to you of my such Hopes are realised is a satisfaction indeed, a satis-
lost Henry will be a luxury to me, and your goodness faction which is now almost the only one I can ever ex-
will not I know refuse to read what it will so much releive perience.—I feel myself so languid that I am sure were
my Heart to write. I once thought that to have what is you with me you would oblige me to leave off writing,
in general called a Freind (I mean one of my own sex to and I cannot give you a greater proof of my affection
whom I might speak with less reserve than to any other for you than by acting, as I know you would wish me to
person) independant of my sister would never be an ob- do, whether Absent or Present. I am my dear Emmas
ject of my wishes, but how much was I mistaken! Char- sincere freind
lotte is too much engrossed by two confidential corre-
spondents of that sort, to supply the place of one to me, E. L.

Love and Friendship
MARLO OWE tto o Miss to my maintaining with Pleasure a Correspondence with
Grosvenor S
osvenor tr
Str ee
treet, Apr
eet, il 1
April 0t
0thh you. As to the subject of your letters to me, whether
grave or merry, if they concern you they must be equally
Need I say my dear Eloisa how wellcome your letter was interesting to me; not but that I think the melancholy
to me I cannot give a greater proof of the pleasure I Indulgence of your own sorrows by repeating them and
received from it, or of the Desire I feel that our Corre- dwelling on them to me, will only encourage and increase
spondence may be regular and frequent than by setting them, and that it will be more prudent in you to avoid
you so good an example as I now do in answering it so sad a subject; but yet knowing as I do what a sooth-
before the end of the week—. But do not imagine that I ing and melancholy Pleasure it must afford you, I can-
claim any merit in being so punctual; on the contrary I not prevail on myself to deny you so great an Indul-
assure you, that it is a far greater Gratification to me to gence, and will only insist on your not expecting me to
write to you, than to spend the Evening either at a Con- encourage you in it, by my own letters; on the contrary
cert or a Ball. Mr Marlowe is so desirous of my appear- I intend to fill them with such lively Wit and enlivening
ing at some of the Public places every evening that I do Humour as shall even provoke a smile in the sweet but
not like to refuse him, but at the same time so much sorrowfull countenance of my Eloisa.
wish to remain at Home, that independant of the Plea- In the first place you are to learn that I have met your
sure I experience in devoting any portion of my Time to sisters three freinds Lady Lesley and her Daughters,
my Dear Eloisa, yet the Liberty I claim from having a twice in Public since I have been here. I know you will
letter to write of spending an Evening at home with my be impatient to hear my opinion of the Beauty of three
little Boy, you know me well enough to be sensible, will Ladies of whom you have heard so much. Now, as you
of itself be a sufficient Inducement (if one is necessary) are too ill and too unhappy to be vain, I think I may

Jane Austen
venture to inform you that I like none of their faces so have been saying to you in this letter. It is very hard
well as I do your own. Yet they are all handsome—Lady that a pretty woman is never to be told she is so by any
Lesley indeed I have seen before; her Daughters I beleive one of her own sex without that person’s being suspected
would in general be said to have a finer face than her to be either her determined Enemy, or her professed
Ladyship, and yet what with the charms of a Blooming Toad-eater. How much more amiable are women in that
complexion, a little Affectation and a great deal of small- particular! One man may say forty civil things to an-
talk, (in each of which she is superior to the young La- other without our supposing that he is ever paid for it,
dies) she will I dare say gain herself as many admirers and provided he does his Duty by our sex, we care not
as the more regular features of Matilda, and Margaret. how Polite he is to his own.
I am sure you will agree with me in saying that they can Mrs Lutterell will be so good as to accept my compli-
none of them be of a proper size for real Beauty, when ments, Charlotte, my Love, and Eloisa the best wishes
you know that two of them are taller and the other for the recovery of her Health and Spirits that can be
shorter than ourselves. In spite of this Defect (or rather offered by her affectionate Freind E. Marlowe.
by reason of it) there is something very noble and ma- I am afraid this letter will be but a poor specimen of
jestic in the figures of the Miss Lesleys, and something my Powers in the witty way; and your opinion of them
agreably lively in the appearance of their pretty little will not be greatly increased when I assure you that I
Mother-in-law. But tho’ one may be majestic and the have been as entertaining as I possibly could.
other lively, yet the faces of neither possess that Bewitch-
ing sweetness of my Eloisas, which her present languor
is so far from diminushing. What would my Husband
and Brother say of us, if they knew all the fine things I

Love and Friendship
he TENTH F Frrom Miss MAR
MARG GARET sensibility for the sufferings of so many amiable young
o Miss C HARL
LUTTERELL Men, my Dislike of the extreme admiration I meet with,
Porortman Squar
tman Sq uaree Apr
uar April 13t
il 13th
3t h and my aversion to being so celebrated both in Public,
in Private, in Papers, and in Printshops, that are the
My Dear Charlotte reasons why I cannot more fully enjoy, the Amusements
so various and pleasing of London. How often have I
We left Lesley-Castle on the 28th of last Month, and wished that I possessed as little Personal Beauty as you
arrived safely in London after a Journey of seven Days; do; that my figure were as inelegant; my face as un-
I had the pleasure of finding your Letter here waiting lovely; and my appearance as unpleasing as yours! But
my Arrival, for which you have my grateful Thanks. ah! what little chance is there of so desirable an Event; I
Ah! my dear Freind I every day more regret the serene have had the small-pox, and must therefore submit to
and tranquil Pleasures of the Castle we have left, in ex- my unhappy fate.
change for the uncertain and unequal Amusements of I am now going to intrust you my dear Charlotte with
this vaunted City. Not that I will pretend to assert that a secret which has long disturbed the tranquility of my
these uncertain and unequal Amusements are in the days, and which is of a kind to require the most invio-
least Degree unpleasing to me; on the contrary I enjoy lable Secrecy from you. Last Monday se’night Matilda
them extremely and should enjoy them even more, were and I accompanied Lady Lesley to a Rout at the
I not certain that every appearance I make in Public Honourable Mrs Kickabout’s; we were escorted by Mr
but rivetts the Chains of those unhappy Beings whose Fitzgerald who is a very amiable young Man in the main,
Passion it is impossible not to pity, tho’ it is out of my tho’ perhaps a little singular in his Taste—He is in love
power to return. In short my Dear Charlotte it is my with Matilda—. We had scarcely paid our Compliments

Jane Austen
to the Lady of the House and curtseyed to half a score any such Powers, by putting an end to a Conversation
different people when my Attention was attracted by we had never commenced, and by attracting my atten-
the appearance of a Young Man the most lovely of his tion to himself. But oh! how inferior are the accomplish-
Sex, who at that moment entered the Room with an- ments of Sir James to those of his so greatly envied Ri-
other Gentleman and Lady. From the first moment I val! Sir James is one of the most frequent of our Visitors,
beheld him, I was certain that on him depended the and is almost always of our Parties. We have since often
future Happiness of my Life. Imagine my surprise when met Mr and Mrs Marlowe but no Cleveland—he is al-
he was introduced to me by the name of Cleveland—I ways engaged some where else. Mrs Marlowe fatigues
instantly recognised him as the Brother of Mrs Marlowe, me to Death every time I see her by her tiresome Con-
and the acquaintance of my Charlotte at Bristol. Mr versations about you and Eloisa. She is so stupid! I live
and Mrs M. were the gentleman and Lady who accom- in the hope of seeing her irrisistable Brother to night, as
panied him. (You do not think Mrs Marlowe handsome?) we are going to Lady Flambeaus, who is I know inti-
The elegant address of Mr Cleveland, his polished Man- mate with the Marlowes. Our party will be Lady Lesley,
ners and Delightful Bow, at once confirmed my attach- Matilda, Fitzgerald, Sir James Gower, and myself. We
ment. He did not speak; but I can imagine everything see little of Sir George, who is almost always at the gam-
he would have said, had he opened his Mouth. I can ing-table. Ah! my poor Fortune where art thou by this
picture to myself the cultivated Understanding, the time? We see more of Lady L. who always makes her
Noble sentiments, and elegant Language which would appearance (highly rouged) at Dinner-time. Alas! what
have shone so conspicuous in the conversation of Mr Delightful Jewels will she be decked in this evening at
Cleveland. The approach of Sir James Gower (one of Lady Flambeau’s! Yet I wonder how she can herself de-
my too numerous admirers) prevented the Discovery of light in wearing them; surely she must be sensible of the

Love and Friendship
ridiculous impropriety of loading her little diminutive man-catholic, and is soon to be married to a Neapolitan
figure with such superfluous ornaments; is it possible Nobleman of great and Distinguished merit. He says,
that she can not know how greatly superior an elegant that they are at present very good Freinds, have quite
simplicity is to the most studied apparel? Would she forgiven all past errors and intend in future to be very
but Present them to Matilda and me, how greatly should good Neighbours. He invites Matilda and me to pay
we be obliged to her, How becoming would Diamonds him a visit to Italy and to bring him his little Louisa
be on our fine majestic figures! And how surprising it is whom both her Mother, Step-mother, and himself are
that such an Idea should never have occurred to HER. equally desirous of beholding. As to our accepting his
I am sure if I have reflected in this manner once, I have invitation, it is at Present very uncertain; Lady Lesley
fifty times. Whenever I see Lady Lesley dressed in them advises us to go without loss of time; Fitzgerald offers to
such reflections immediately come across me. My own escort us there, but Matilda has some doubts of the Pro-
Mother’s Jewels too! But I will say no more on so mel- priety of such a scheme—she owns it would be very
ancholy a subject —let me entertain you with something agreable. I am certain she likes the Fellow. My Father
more pleasing—Matilda had a letter this morning from desires us not to be in a hurry, as perhaps if we wait a
Lesley, by which we have the pleasure of finding that he few months both he and Lady Lesley will do themselves
is at Naples has turned Roman-Catholic, obtained one the pleasure of attending us. Lady Lesley says no, that
of the Pope’s Bulls for annulling his 1st Marriage and nothing will ever tempt her to forego the Amusements
has since actually married a Neapolitan Lady of great of Brighthelmstone for a Journey to Italy merely to see
Rank and Fortune. He tells us moreover that much the our Brother. “No (says the disagreable Woman) I have
same sort of affair has befallen his first wife the worth- once in my life been fool enough to travel I dont know
less Louisa who is likewise at Naples had turned Ro- how many hundred Miles to see two of the Family, and

Jane Austen
I found it did not answer, so Deuce take me, if ever I am THE HISTOR
so foolish again.”So says her Ladyship, but Sir George
still Perseveres in saying that perhaps in a month or two, From the Reign of Henry the 4th to the Death of
they may accompany us. Adeiu my Dear Charlotte Yrs Charles 1st
faithful Margaret Lesley.
By a Partial, Prejudiced, and Ignorant Historian.

To Miss Austen, eldest daughter of the Rev. George

Austen, this work is inscribed with all due respect by
The Author.

N.B. There will be very few Dates in this History.


HENRY tthe
HENRY he 4t

Henry the 4th ascended the throne of England much to

his own satisfaction in the year 1399, after having pre-
vailed on his cousin and predecessor Richard the 2nd,
to resign it to him, and to retire for the rest of his life to

Love and Friendship
Pomfret Castle, where he happened to be murdered. It Agincourt. He afterwards married the King’s daughter
is to be supposed that Henry was married, since he had Catherine, a very agreable woman by Shakespear’s ac-
certainly four sons, but it is not in my power to inform count. In spite of all this however he died, and was suc-
the Reader who was his wife. Be this as it may, he did ceeded by his son Henry.
not live for ever, but falling ill, his son the Prince of Wales
came and took away the crown; whereupon the King
made a long speech, for which I must refer the Reader HENRY tthe
HENRY he 6t
to Shakespear’s Plays, and the Prince made a still longer.
Things being thus settled between them the King died, I cannot say much for this Monarch’s sense. Nor would
and was succeeded by his son Henry who had previ- I if I could, for he was a Lancastrian. I suppose you
ously beat Sir William Gascoigne. know all about the Wars between him and the Duke of
York who was of the right side; if you do not, you had
better read some other History, for I shall not be very
HENRY tthe
HENRY he 5t
5thh diffuse in this, meaning by it only to vent my spleen
against, and shew my Hatred to all those people whose
This Prince after he succeeded to the throne grew quite parties or principles do not suit with mine, and not to
reformed and amiable, forsaking all his dissipated com- give information. This King married Margaret of Anjou,
panions, and never thrashing Sir William again. Dur- a Woman whose distresses and misfortunes were so great
ing his reign, Lord Cobham was burnt alive, but I for- as almost to make me who hate her, pity her. It was in
get what for. His Majesty then turned his thoughts to this reign that Joan of Arc lived and made such a row
France, where he went and fought the famous Battle of among the English. They should not have burnt her —

Jane Austen
but they did. There were several Battles between the EDWARD tthe
EDW he 5t
Yorkists and Lancastrians, in which the former (as they
ought) usually conquered. At length they were entirely This unfortunate Prince lived so little a while that no-
overcome; The King was murdered—The Queen was body had him to draw his picture. He was murdered by
sent home—and Edward the 4th ascended the Throne. his Uncle’s Contrivance, whose name was Richard the

EDW he 4t
This Monarch was famous only for his Beauty and his
Courage, of which the Picture we have here given of The Character of this Prince has been in general very
him, and his undaunted Behaviour in marrying one severely treated by Historians, but as he was a York, I
Woman while he was engaged to another, are sufficient am rather inclined to suppose him a very respectable
proofs. His Wife was Elizabeth Woodville, a Widow who, Man. It has indeed been confidently asserted that he
poor Woman! was afterwards confined in a Convent killed his two Nephews and his Wife, but it has also been
by that Monster of Iniquity and Avarice Henry the 7th. declared that he did not kill his two Nephews, which I
One of Edward’s Mistresses was Jane Shore, who has am inclined to beleive true; and if this is the case, it may
had a play written about her, but it is a tragedy and also be affirmed that he did not kill his Wife, for if Perkin
therefore not worth reading. Having performed all these Warbeck was really the Duke of York, why might not
noble actions, his Majesty died, and was succeeded by Lambert Simnel be the Widow of Richard. Whether
his son. innocent or guilty, he did not reign long in peace, for

Love and Friendship
Henry Tudor E. of Richmond as great a villain as ever amiable young woman and famous for reading Greek
lived, made a great fuss about getting the Crown and while other people were hunting. It was in the reign of
having killed the King at the battle of Bosworth, he suc- Henry the 7th that Perkin Warbeck and Lambert Simnel
ceeded to it. before mentioned made their appearance, the former of
whom was set in the stocks, took shelter in Beaulieu
Abbey, and was beheaded with the Earl of Warwick,
HENRY tthe
HENRY he 7t
7thh and the latter was taken into the Kings kitchen. His
Majesty died and was succeeded by his son Henry whose
This Monarch soon after his accession married the Prin- only merit was his not being quite so bad as his daugh-
cess Elizabeth of York, by which alliance he plainly ter Elizabeth.
proved that he thought his own right inferior to hers,
tho’ he pretended to the contrary. By this Marriage he
had two sons and two daughters, the elder of which HENRY tthe
HENRY he 8t
Daughters was married to the King of Scotland and had
the happiness of being grandmother to one of the first It would be an affront to my Readers were I to suppose
Characters in the World. But of her, I shall have occa- that they were not as well acquainted with the particu-
sion to speak more at large in future. The youngest, lars of this King’s reign as I am myself. It will therefore
Mary, married first the King of France and secondly be saving them the task of reading again what they have
the D. of Suffolk, by whom she had one daughter, after- read before, and myself the trouble of writing what I do
wards the Mother of Lady Jane Grey, who tho’ inferior not perfectly recollect, by giving only a slight sketch of
to her lovely Cousin the Queen of Scots, was yet an the principal Events which marked his reign. Among

Jane Austen
these may be ranked Cardinal Wolsey’s telling the fa- Houses and leaving them to the ruinous depredations
ther Abbott of Leicester Abbey that “he was come to of time has been of infinite use to the landscape of En-
lay his bones among them,” the reformation in Religion gland in general, which probably was a principal mo-
and the King’s riding through the streets of London with tive for his doing it, since otherwise why should a Man
Anna Bullen. It is however but Justice, and my Duty to who was of no Religion himself be at so much trouble to
declare that this amiable Woman was entirely innocent abolish one which had for ages been established in the
of the Crimes with which she was accused, and of which Kingdom. His Majesty’s 5th Wife was the Duke of
her Beauty, her Elegance, and her Sprightliness were Norfolk’s Neice who, tho’ universally acquitted of the
sufficient proofs, not to mention her solemn Protesta- crimes for which she was beheaded, has been by many
tions of Innocence, the weakness of the Charges against people supposed to have led an abandoned life before
her, and the King’s Character; all of which add some her Marriage—of this however I have many doubts, since
confirmation, tho’ perhaps but slight ones when in com- she was a relation of that noble Duke of Norfolk who
parison with those before alledged in her favour. Tho’ I was so warm in the Queen of Scotland’s cause, and who
do not profess giving many dates, yet as I think it proper at last fell a victim to it. The Kings last wife contrived to
to give some and shall of course make choice of those survive him, but with difficulty effected it. He was suc-
which it is most necessary for the Reader to know, I think ceeded by his only son Edward.
it right to inform him that her letter to the King was
dated on the 6th of May. The Crimes and Cruelties of
this Prince, were too numerous to be mentioned, (as this
history I trust has fully shown;) and nothing can be said
in his vindication, but that his abolishing Religious

Love and Friendship
EDW he 6t
6thh ready mentioned as reading Greek. Whether she really
understood that language or whether such a study pro-
As this prince was only nine years old at the time of his ceeded only from an excess of vanity for which I beleive
Father’s death, he was considered by many people as she was always rather remarkable, is uncertain. What-
too young to govern, and the late King happening to be ever might be the cause, she preserved the same appear-
of the same opinion, his mother’s Brother the Duke of ance of knowledge, and contempt of what was generally
Somerset was chosen Protector of the realm during his esteemed pleasure, during the whole of her life, for she
minority. This Man was on the whole of a very amiable declared herself displeased with being appointed Queen,
Character, and is somewhat of a favourite with me, tho’ and while conducting to the scaffold, she wrote a sen-
I would by no means pretend to affirm that he was equal tence in Latin and another in Greek on seeing the dead
to those first of Men Robert Earl of Essex, Delamere, or Body of her Husband accidentally passing that way.
Gilpin. He was beheaded, of which he might with rea-
son have been proud, had he known that such was the
death of Mary Queen of Scotland; but as it was impos- MARY
sible that he should be conscious of what had never
happened, it does not appear that he felt particularly This woman had the good luck of being advanced to
delighted with the manner of it. After his decease the the throne of England, in spite of the superior preten-
Duke of Northumberland had the care of the King and sions, Merit, and Beauty of her Cousins Mary Queen of
the Kingdom, and performed his trust of both so well Scotland and Jane Grey. Nor can I pity the Kingdom
that the King died and the Kingdom was left to his for the misfortunes they experienced during her Reign,
daughter in law the Lady Jane Grey, who has been al- since they fully deserved them, for having allowed her

Jane Austen
to succeed her Brother—which was a double peice of many people been asserted and beleived that Lord
folly, since they might have foreseen that as she died Burleigh, Sir Francis Walsingham, and the rest of those
without children, she would be succeeded by that dis- who filled the cheif offices of State were deserving, ex-
grace to humanity, that pest of society, Elizabeth. Many perienced, and able Ministers. But oh! how blinded such
were the people who fell martyrs to the protestant Reli- writers and such Readers must be to true Merit, to Merit
gion during her reign; I suppose not fewer than a dozen. despised, neglected and defamed, if they can persist in
She married Philip King of Spain who in her sister’s such opinions when they reflect that these men, these
reign was famous for building Armadas. She died with- boasted men were such scandals to their Country and
out issue, and then the dreadful moment came in which their sex as to allow and assist their Queen in confining
the destroyer of all comfort, the deceitful Betrayer of trust for the space of nineteen years, a woman who if the
reposed in her, and the Murderess of her Cousin suc- claims of Relationship and Merit were of no avail, yet as
ceeded to the Throne.—— a Queen and as one who condescended to place confi-
dence in her, had every reason to expect assistance and
protection; and at length in allowing Elizabeth to bring
ELIZABETH this amiable Woman to an untimely, unmerited, and
scandalous Death. Can any one if he reflects but for a
It was the peculiar misfortune of this Woman to have moment on this blot, this everlasting blot upon their
bad Ministers—Since wicked as she herself was, she understanding and their Character, allow any praise to
could not have committed such extensive mischeif, had Lord Burleigh or Sir Francis Walsingham? Oh! what
not these vile and abandoned Men connived at, and must this bewitching Princess whose only freind was then
encouraged her in her Crimes. I know that it has by the Duke of Norfolk, and whose only ones now Mr

Love and Friendship
Whitaker, Mrs Lefroy, Mrs Knight and myself, who was reigning in Scotland, of which I now most seriously do
abandoned by her son, confined by her Cousin, abused, assure my Reader that she was entirely innocent; hav-
reproached and vilified by all, what must not her most ing never been guilty of anything more than
noble mind have suffered when informed that Elizabeth Imprudencies into which she was betrayed by the open-
had given orders for her Death! Yet she bore it with a ness of her Heart, her Youth, and her Education. Hav-
most unshaken fortitude, firm in her mind; constant in ing I trust by this assurance entirely done away every
her Religion; and prepared herself to meet the cruel fate Suspicion and every doubt which might have arisen in
to which she was doomed, with a magnanimity that the Reader’s mind, from what other Historians have
would alone proceed from conscious Innocence. And written of her, I shall proceed to mention the remaining
yet could you Reader have beleived it possible that some Events that marked Elizabeth’s reign. It was about this
hardened and zealous Protestants have even abused her time that Sir Francis Drake the first English Navigator
for that steadfastness in the Catholic Religion which who sailed round the World, lived, to be the ornament
reflected on her so much credit? But this is a striking of his Country and his profession. Yet great as he was,
proof of their narrow souls and prejudiced Judgements and justly celebrated as a sailor, I cannot help foresee-
who accuse her. She was executed in the Great Hall at ing that he will be equalled in this or the next Century
Fortheringay Castle (sacred Place!) on Wednesday the by one who tho’ now but young, already promises to
8th of February 1586—to the everlasting Reproach of answer all the ardent and sanguine expectations of his
Elizabeth, her Ministers, and of England in general. It Relations and Freinds, amongst whom I may class the
may not be unnecessary before I entirely conclude my amiable Lady to whom this work is dedicated, and my
account of this ill-fated Queen, to observe that she had no less amiable self.
been accused of several crimes during the time of her

Jane Austen
Though of a different profession, and shining in a dif- JAMES tthe
he 1s
ferent sphere of Life, yet equally conspicuous in the
Character of an Earl, as Drake was in that of a Sailor, Though this King had some faults, among which and
was Robert Devereux Lord Essex. This unfortunate as the most principal, was his allowing his Mother’s
young Man was not unlike in character to that equally death, yet considered on the whole I cannot help liking
unfortunate one Frederic Delamere. The simile may be him. He married Anne of Denmark, and had several
carried still farther, and Elizabeth the torment of Essex Children; fortunately for him his eldest son Prince Henry
may be compared to the Emmeline of Delamere. It would died before his father or he might have experienced the
be endless to recount the misfortunes of this noble and evils which befell his unfortunate Brother.
gallant Earl. It is sufficient to say that he was beheaded As I am myself partial to the roman catholic religion,
on the 25th of Feb, after having been Lord Lieutenant it is with infinite regret that I am obliged to blame the
of Ireland, after having clapped his hand on his sword, Behaviour of any Member of it: yet Truth being I think
and after performing many other services to his Coun- very excusable in an Historian, I am necessitated to say
try. Elizabeth did not long survive his loss, and died so that in this reign the roman Catholics of England did
miserable that were it not an injury to the memory of not behave like Gentlemen to the protestants. Their
Mary I should pity her. Behaviour indeed to the Royal Family and both Houses
of Parliament might justly be considered by them as very
uncivil, and even Sir Henry Percy tho’ certainly the best
bred man of the party, had none of that general polite-
ness which is so universally pleasing, as his attentions
were entirely confined to Lord Mounteagle.

Love and Friendship
Sir Walter Raleigh f lourished in this and the tioned Sharade, and George Villiers afterwards Duke of
preceeding reign, and is by many people held in great Buckingham. On his Majesty’s death he was succeeded
veneration and respect—But as he was an enemy of the by his son Charles.
noble Essex, I have nothing to say in praise of him, and
must refer all those who may wish to be acquainted with
the particulars of his life, to Mr Sheridan’s play of the CHARLES tthe
he 1s
Critic, where they will find many interesting anecdotes
as well of him as of his friend Sir Christopher Hatton.— This amiable Monarch seems born to have suffered mis-
His Majesty was of that amiable disposition which in- fortunes equal to those of his lovely Grandmother; mis-
clines to Freindship, and in such points was possessed fortunes which he could not deserve since he was her
of a keener penetration in discovering Merit than many descendant. Never certainly were there before so many
other people. I once heard an excellent Sharade on a detestable Characters at one time in England as in this
Carpet, of which the subject I am now on reminds me, Period of its History; never were amiable men so scarce.
and as I think it may afford my Readers some amuse- The number of them throughout the whole Kingdom
ment to find it out, I shall here take the liberty of pre- amounting only to five, besides the inhabitants of Ox-
senting it to them. ford who were always loyal to their King and faithful to
Sharade My first is what my second was to King James his interests. The names of this noble five who never
the 1st, and you tread on my whole. forgot the duty of the subject, or swerved from their at-
The principal favourites of his Majesty were Car, who tachment to his Majesty, were as follows—The King him-
was afterwards created Earl of Somerset and whose self, ever stedfast in his own support —Archbishop Laud,
name perhaps may have some share in the above men- Earl of Strafford, Viscount Faulkland and Duke of

Jane Austen
Ormond, who were scarcely less strenuous or zealous in done, and to abuse Elizabeth, tho’ I am rather fearful of
the cause. While the villians of the time would make too having fallen short in the latter part of my scheme. —As
long a list to be written or read; I shall therefore content therefore it is not my intention to give any particular
myself with mentioning the leaders of the Gang. account of the distresses into which this King was in-
Cromwell, Fairfax, Hampden, and Pym may be consid- volved through the misconduct and Cruelty of his Par-
ered as the original Causers of all the disturbances, Dis- liament, I shall satisfy myself with vindicating him from
tresses, and Civil Wars in which England for many years the Reproach of Arbitrary and tyrannical Government
was embroiled. In this reign as well as in that of Eliza- with which he has often been charged. This, I feel, is
beth, I am obliged in spite of my attachment to the not difficult to be done, for with one argument I am
Scotch, to consider them as equally guilty with the gen- certain of satisfying every sensible and well disposed
erality of the English, since they dared to think differ- person whose opinions have been properly guided by a
ently from their Sovereign, to forget the Adoration which good Education—and this Argument is that he was a
as Stuarts it was their Duty to pay them, to rebel against, Stuart.
dethrone and imprison the unfortunate Mary; to op-
pose, to deceive, and to sell the no less unfortunate Finis – Saturday Nov: 26th 1791.
Charles. The Events of this Monarch’s reign are too
numerous for my pen, and indeed the recital of any
Events (except what I make myself) is uninteresting to
me; my principal reason for undertaking the History of
England being to Prove the innocence of the Queen of
Scotland, which I flatter myself with having effectually

Love and Friendship


From a MO THER tto
Cousin Conscious of the Charming Character which in
every Country, and every Clime in Christendom is My Children begin now to claim all my attention in dif-
Cried, Concerning you, with Caution and Care I Com- ferent Manner from that in which they have been used
mend to your Charitable Criticism this Clever Collec- to receive it, as they are now arrived at that age when it
tion of Curious Comments, which have been Carefully is necessary for them in some measure to become con-
Culled, Collected and Classed by your Comical Cousin versant with the World, My Augusta is 17 and her sister
scarcely a twelvemonth younger. I flatter myself that
The Author. their education has been such as will not disgrace their
appearance in the World, and that they will not disgrace
their Education I have every reason to beleive. Indeed
they are sweet Girls—. Sensible yet unaffected—Accom-
plished yet Easy—. Lively yet Gentle—. As their progress
in every thing they have learnt has been always the same,
I am willing to forget the difference of age, and to intro-
duce them together into Public. This very Evening is
fixed on as their first entree into Life, as we are to drink

Jane Austen
tea with Mrs Cope and her Daughter. I am glad that the rewards of all my Anxieties and Labours towards
we are to meet no one, for my Girls sake, as it would be you during your Education. You are this Evening to
awkward for them to enter too wide a Circle on the very enter a World in which you will meet with many
first day. But we shall proceed by degrees.—Tomorrow wonderfull Things; Yet let me warn you against suffer-
Mr Stanly’s family will drink tea with us, and perhaps ing yourselves to be meanly swayed by the Follies and
the Miss Phillips’s will meet them. On Tuesday we shall Vices of others, for beleive me my beloved Children that
pay Morning Visits—On Wednesday we are to dine at if you do—I shall be very sorry for it.” They both as-
Westbrook. On Thursday we have Company at home. sured me that they would ever remember my advice with
On Friday we are to be at a Private Concert at Sir John Gratitude, and follow it with attention; That they were
Wynna’s—and on Saturday we expect Miss Dawson to prepared to find a World full of things to amaze and to
call in the Morning—which will complete my Daugh- shock them: but that they trusted their behaviour would
ters Introduction into Life. How they will bear so much never give me reason to repent the Watchful Care with
dissipation I cannot imagine; of their spirits I have no which I had presided over their infancy and formed their
fear, I only dread their health. Minds—” “With such expectations and such intentions
This mighty affair is now happily over, and my Girls (cried I) I can have nothing to fear from you—and can
are out. As the moment approached for our departure, chearfully conduct you to Mrs Cope’s without a fear of
you can have no idea how the sweet Creatures trembled your being seduced by her Example, or contaminated
with fear and expectation. Before the Carriage drove to by her Follies. Come, then my Children (added I) the
the door, I called them into my dressing-room, and as Carriage is driving to the door, and I will not a moment
soon as they were seated thus addressed them. “My delay the happiness you are so impatient to enjoy.” When
dear Girls the moment is now arrived when I am to reap we arrived at Warleigh, poor Augusta could scarcely

Love and Friendship
breathe, while Margaret was all Life and Rapture. “The LETTER tthe
long-expected Moment is now arrived (said she) and we From a Y
ADY Y crossed in Lo
crossed Lovve
shall soon be in the World.”—In a few Moments we were freind
to her fr eind
in Mrs Cope’s parlour, where with her daughter she sate
ready to receive us. I observed with delight the impres- Why should this last disappointment hang so heavily
sion my Children made on them—. They were indeed on my spirits? Why should I feel it more, why should it
two sweet, elegant-looking Girls, and tho’ somewhat wound me deeper than those I have experienced be-
abashed from the peculiarity of their situation, yet there fore? Can it be that I have a greater affection for
was an ease in their Manners and address which could Willoughby than I had for his amiable predecessors?
not fail of pleasing—. Imagine my dear Madam how Or is it that our feelings become more acute from being
delighted I must have been in beholding as I did, how often wounded? I must suppose my dear Belle that this
attentively they observed every object they saw, how is the Case, since I am not conscious of being more sin-
disgusted with some Things, how enchanted with oth- cerely attached to Willoughby than I was to Neville,
ers, how astonished at all! On the whole however they Fitzowen, or either of the Crawfords, for all of whom I
returned in raptures with the World, its Inhabitants, and once felt the most lasting affection that ever warmed a
Manners. Yrs Ever—A. F. Woman’s heart. Tell me then dear Belle why I still sigh
when I think of the faithless Edward, or why I weep when
I behold his Bride, for too surely this is the case—. My
Freinds are all alarmed for me; they fear my declining
health; they lament my want of spirits; they dread the
effects of both. In hopes of releiving my melancholy, by

Jane Austen
directing my thoughts to other objects, they have in- ing her how much she engaged my admiration—. “Oh!
vited several of their freinds to spend the Christmas with Miss Jane (said I)—and stopped from an inability at the
us. Lady Bridget Darkwood and her sister-in-law, Miss moment of expressing myself as I could wish— Oh! Miss
Jane are expected on Friday; and Colonel Seaton’s fam- Jane—(I repeated) —I could not think of words to suit
ily will be with us next week. This is all most kindly my feelings— She seemed waiting for my speech—. I
meant by my Uncle and Cousins; but what can the pres- was confused— distressed—my thoughts were bewil-
ence of a dozen indefferent people do to me, but weary dered—and I could only add—”How do you do?” She
and distress me—. I will not finish my Letter till some of saw and felt for my Embarrassment and with admirable
our Visitors are arrived. presence of mind releived me from it by saying—”My
Friday Evening Lady Bridget came this morning, and dear Sophia be not uneasy at having exposed yourself—
with her, her sweet sister Miss Jane—. Although I have I will turn the Conversation without appearing to no-
been acquainted with this charming Woman above fif- tice it. “Oh! how I loved her for her kindness!” Do you
teen Years, yet I never before observed how lovely she ride as much as you used to do?” said she—. “I am ad-
is. She is now about 35, and in spite of sickness, sorrow vised to ride by my Physician. We have delightful Rides
and Time is more blooming than I ever saw a Girl of 17. round us, I have a Charming horse, am uncommonly
I was delighted with her, the moment she entered the fond of the Amusement, replied I quite recovered from
house, and she appeared equally pleased with me, at- my Confusion, and in short I ride a great deal.” “You
taching herself to me during the remainder of the day. are in the right my Love,” said she. Then repeating the
There is something so sweet, so mild in her Countenance, following line which was an extempore and equally
that she seems more than Mortal. Her Conversation is adapted to recommend both Riding and Candour—
as bewitching as her appearance; I could not help tell- “Ride where you may, Be Candid where you can,”

Love and Friendship
she added,” I rode once, but it is many years ago—She with my Father and me, passing with him and with ev-
spoke this in so low and tremulous a Voice, that I was ery one as the Children of a Brother (tho’ I had ever
silent—. Struck with her Manner of speaking I could been an only Child) had as yet been the comforts of my
make no reply. “I have not ridden, continued she fixing Life. But no sooner had I lossed my Henry, than these
her Eyes on my face, since I was married.” I was never sweet Creatures fell sick and died—. Conceive dear
so surprised—”Married, Ma’am!” I repeated. “You may Sophia what my feelings must have been when as an
well wear that look of astonishment, said she, since what Aunt I attended my Children to their early Grave—. My
I have said must appear improbable to you—Yet noth- Father did not survive them many weeks—He died, poor
ing is more true than that I once was married.” Good old man, happily ignorant to his last hour of my
“Then why are you called Miss Jane?” Marriage.’
“I married, my Sophia without the consent or knowl- “But did not you own it, and assume his name at your
edge of my father the late Admiral Annesley. It was husband’s death?”
therefore necessary to keep the secret from him and from “No; I could not bring myself to do it; more especially
every one, till some fortunate opportunity might offer when in my Children I lost all inducement for doing it.
of revealing it—. Such an opportunity alas! was but too Lady Bridget, and yourself are the only persons who
soon given in the death of my dear Capt. Dashwood— are in the knowledge of my having ever been either Wife
Pardon these tears, continued Miss Jane wiping her Eyes, or Mother. As I could not Prevail on myself to take the
I owe them to my Husband’s memory. He fell my name of Dashwood (a name which after my Henry’s
Sophia, while fighting for his Country in America after death I could never hear without emotion) and as I was
a most happy Union of seven years—. My Children, conscious of having no right to that of Annesley, I dropt
two sweet Boys and a Girl, who had constantly resided all thoughts of either, and have made it a point of bear-

Jane Austen
ing only my Christian one since my Father’s death.” to one’s sensations as to hear of equal misery.”
She paused—”Oh! my dear Miss Jane (said I) how in- “Ah! but my Sophia why are you unhappy?”
finitely am I obliged to you for so entertaining a story! “Have you not heard Madam of Willoughby’s Mar-
You cannot think how it has diverted me! But have riage?”
you quite done?” “But my love why lament his perfidy, when you bore
“I have only to add my dear Sophia, that my Henry’s so well that of many young Men before?”
elder Brother dieing about the same time, Lady Bridget “Ah! Madam, I was used to it then, but when
became a Widow like myself, and as we had always loved Willoughby broke his Engagements I had not been
each other in idea from the high Character in which we dissapointed for half a year.”
had ever been spoken of, though we had never met, we “Poor Girl!” said Miss Jane.
determined to live together. We wrote to one another on
the same subject by the same post, so exactly did our
feeling and our actions coincide! We both eagerly em-
braced the proposals we gave and received of becoming
one family, and have from that time lived together in
the greatest affection.”
“And is this all? said I, I hope you have not done.”
“Indeed I have; and did you ever hear a story more
“I never did—and it is for that reason it pleases me so
much, for when one is unhappy nothing is so delightful

Love and Friendship
he THIRD my mind, that I think it was quite a needless piece of
From a Y
ADY Y in distr
distr essed
tressed expence—Why could not you have worn your old striped
Cir cumsttances tto
cums freind
o her freind one? It is not my way to find fault with People because
they are poor, for I always think that they are more to
A few days ago I was at a private Ball given by Mr be despised and pitied than blamed for it, especially if
Ashburnham. As my Mother never goes out she en- they cannot help it, but at the same time I must say that
trusted me to the care of Lady Greville who did me the in my opinion your old striped Gown would have been
honour of calling for me in her way and of allowing me quite fine enough for its Wearer—for to tell you the truth
to sit forwards, which is a favour about which I am very (I always speak my mind) I am very much afraid that
indifferent especially as I know it is considered as one half of the people in the room will not know whether
confering a great obligation on me “So Miss Maria (said you have a Gown on or not—But I suppose you intend
her Ladyship as she saw me advancing to the door of to make your fortune to night—. Well, the sooner the
the Carriage) you seem very smart to night—my poor better; and I wish you success.”
Girls will appear quite to disadvantage by you— I only “Indeed Ma’am I have no such intention—”
hope your Mother may not have distressed herself to set “Who ever heard a young Lady own that she was a
you off. Have you got a new Gown on?” Fortune-hunter?” Miss Greville laughed but I am sure
“Yes Ma’am.” replied I with as much indifference as I Ellen felt for me.
could assume. “Was your Mother gone to bed before you left her?”
“Aye, and a fine one too I think—(feeling it, as by her said her Ladyship.
permission I seated myself by her) I dare say it is all “Dear Ma’am, said Ellen it is but nine o’clock.”
very smart—But I must own, for you know I always speak “True Ellen, but Candles cost money, and Mrs Will-

Jane Austen
iams is too wise to be extravagant.” begun as they waited for Miss Greville. I had not been
“She was just sitting down to supper Ma’am.” long in the room before I was engaged to dance by Mr
“And what had she got for supper?” “I did not ob- Bernard, but just as we were going to stand up, he rec-
serve.” “Bread and Cheese I suppose.” “I should never ollected that his Servant had got his white Gloves, and
wish for a better supper.” said Ellen. “You have never immediately ran out to fetch them. In the mean time
any reason replied her Mother, as a better is always pro- the Dancing began and Lady Greville in passing to an-
vided for you.” Miss Greville laughed excessively, as she other room went exactly before me—She saw me and
constantly does at her Mother’s wit. instantly stopping, said to me though there were several
Such is the humiliating Situation in which I am forced people close to us,
to appear while riding in her Ladyship’s Coach—I dare “Hey day, Miss Maria! What cannot you get a part-
not be impertinent, as my Mother is always admonish- ner? Poor Young Lady! I am afraid your new Gown
ing me to be humble and patient if I wish to make my was put on for nothing. But do not despair; perhaps
way in the world. She insists on my accepting every in- you may get a hop before the Evening is over.” So say-
vitation of Lady Greville, or you may be certain that I ing, she passed on without hearing my repeated assur-
would never enter either her House, or her Coach with ance of being engaged, and leaving me very much pro-
the disagreable certainty I always have of being abused voked at being so exposed before every one—Mr Ber-
for my Poverty while I am in them.—When we arrived nard however soon returned and by coming to me the
at Ashburnham, it was nearly ten o’clock, which was an moment he entered the room, and leading me to the
hour and a half later than we were desired to be there; Dancers my Character I hope was cleared from the im-
but Lady Greville is too fashionable (or fancies herself putation Lady Greville had thrown on it, in the eyes of
to be so) to be punctual. The Dancing however was not all the old Ladies who had heard her speech. I soon

Love and Friendship
forgot all my vexations in the pleasure of dancing and She gave me such a look, and turned away in a great
of having the most agreable partner in the room. As he passion; while I was half delighted with myself for my
is moreover heir to a very large Estate I could see that impertinence, and half afraid of being thought too saucy.
Lady Greville did not look very well pleased when she As Lady Greville was extremely angry with me, she took
found who had been his Choice—She was determined no further notice of me all the Evening, and indeed had
to mortify me, and accordingly when we were sitting I been in favour I should have been equally neglected,
down between the dances, she came to me with more as she was got into a Party of great folks and she never
than her usual insulting importance attended by Miss speaks to me when she can to anyone else. Miss Greville
Mason and said loud enough to be heard by half the was with her Mother’s party at supper, but Ellen pre-
people in the room, “Pray Miss Maria in what way of ferred staying with the Bernards and me. We had a
business was your Grandfather? for Miss Mason and I very pleasant Dance and as Lady G—slept all the way
cannot agree whether he was a Grocer or a Bookbinder.” home, I had a very comfortable ride.
I saw that she wanted to mortify me, and was resolved if The next day while we were at dinner Lady Greville’s
I possibly could to Prevent her seeing that her scheme Coach stopped at the door, for that is the time of day
succeeded. “Neither Madam; he was a Wine Merchant.” she generally contrives it should. She sent in a message
“Aye, I knew he was in some such low way—He broke by the servant to say that “she should not get out but
did not he?” “I beleive not Ma’am.” “Did not he ab- that Miss Maria must come to the Coach-door, as she
scond?” “I never heard that he did.” “At least he died wanted to speak to her, and that she must make haste
insolvent?” “I was never told so before.” “Why, was not and come immediately—” “What an impertinent Mes-
your father as poor as a Rat” “I fancy not.” “Was not sage Mama!” said I—”Go Maria—” replied she—Ac-
he in the Kings Bench once?” “I never saw him there.” cordingly I went and was obliged to stand there at her

Jane Austen
Ladyships pleasure though the Wind was extremely high coarse. You young Ladies who cannot often ride in a
and very cold. Carriage never mind what weather you trudge in, or
“Why I think Miss Maria you are not quite so smart how the wind shews your legs. I would not have my
as you were last night—But I did not come to examine Girls stand out of doors as you do in such a day as this.
your dress, but to tell you that you may dine with us the But some sort of people have no feelings either of cold
day after tomorrow—Not tomorrow, remember, do not or Delicacy—Well, remember that we shall expect you
come tomorrow, for we expect Lord and Lady Clermont on Thursday at 5 o’clock—You must tell your Maid to
and Sir Thomas Stanley’s family—There will be no oc- come for you at night—There will be no Moon—and
casion for your being very fine for I shant send the Car- you will have an horrid walk home—My compts to Your
riage—If it rains you may take an umbrella—” I could Mother—I am afraid your dinner will be cold—Drive
hardly help laughing at hearing her give me leave to on—” And away she went, leaving me in a great passion
keep myself dry—”And pray remember to be in time, with her as she always does. Maria Williams.
for I shant wait—I hate my Victuals over-done—But you
need not come before the time—How does your Mother
do? She is at dinner is not she?” “Yes Ma’am we were
in the middle of dinner when your Ladyship came.” “I
am afraid you find it very cold Maria.” said Ellen. “Yes,
it is an horrible East wind —said her Mother—I assure
you I can hardly bear the window down—But you are
used to be blown about by the wind Miss Maria and
that is what has made your Complexion so rudely and

Love and Friendship
he F OUR
OURTHTH in ignorance for want of asking, I began the Conversa-
From a Y
AD at her im
ather per
imper tinent tto
pertinent o her tion in the following Manner.
fr eind “Have you been long in Essex Ma’am?”
“I arrived on Tuesday.”
We dined yesterday with Mr Evelyn where we were in- “You came from Derbyshire?”
troduced to a very agreable looking Girl his Cousin. I “No, Ma’am! appearing surprised at my question,
was extremely pleased with her appearance, for added from Suffolk.” You will think this a good dash of mine
to the charms of an engaging face, her manner and voice my dear Mary, but you know that I am not wanting for
had something peculiarly interesting in them. So much Impudence when I have any end in veiw. “Are you
so, that they inspired me with a great curiosity to know pleased with the Country Miss Grenville? Do you find
the history of her Life, who were her Parents, where she it equal to the one you have left?”
came from, and what had befallen her, for it was then “Much superior Ma’am in point of Beauty.” She
only known that she was a relation of Mr Evelyn, and sighed. I longed to know for why.
that her name was Grenville. In the evening a favourable “But the face of any Country however beautiful said
opportunity offered to me of attempting at least to know I, can be but a poor consolation for the loss of one’s
what I wished to know, for every one played at Cards dearest Freinds.” She shook her head, as if she felt the
but Mrs Evelyn, My Mother, Dr Drayton, Miss Grenville truth of what I said. My Curiosity was so much raised,
and myself, and as the two former were engaged in a that I was resolved at any rate to satisfy it.
whispering Conversation, and the Doctor fell asleep, we “You regret having left Suffolk then Miss Grenville?”
were of necessity obliged to entertain each other. This “Indeed I do.” “You were born there I suppose?” “Yes
was what I wished and being determined not to remain Ma’am I was and passed many happy years there—”

Jane Austen
“That is a great comfort—said I—I hope Ma’am that one’s advice whose regard for you, joined to superior Age,
you never spent any unhappy one’s there.” perhaps superior Judgement might authorise her to give
“Perfect Felicity is not the property of Mortals, and it. I am that person, and I now challenge you to accept
no one has a right to expect uninterrupted Happiness.— the offer I make you of my Confidence and Freindship,
Some Misfortunes I have certainly met with.” in return to which I shall only ask for yours—”
“What Misfortunes dear Ma’am? replied I, burning “You are extremely obliging Ma’am—said she—and I
with impatience to know every thing. “None Ma’am I am highly flattered by your attention to me—But I am
hope that have been the effect of any wilfull fault in in no difficulty, no doubt, no uncertainty of situation in
me.” “ I dare say not Ma’am, and have no doubt but which any advice can be wanted. Whenever I am how-
that any sufferings you may have experienced could ever continued she brightening into a complaisant smile,
arise only from the cruelties of Relations or the Errors I shall know where to apply.”
of Freinds.” She sighed—”You seem unhappy my dear I bowed, but felt a good deal mortified by such a re-
Miss Grenville —Is it in my power to soften your Misfor- pulse; still however I had not given up my point. I found
tunes?” “Your power Ma’am replied she extremely sur- that by the appearance of sentiment and Freindship
prised; it is in no one’s power to make me happy.” She nothing was to be gained and determined therefore to
pronounced these words in so mournfull and solemn an renew my attacks by Questions and suppositions. “Do
accent, that for some time I had not courage to reply. I you intend staying long in this part of England Miss
was actually silenced. I recovered myself however in a Grenville?”
few moments and looking at her with all the affection I “Yes Ma’am, some time I beleive.”
could, “My dear Miss Grenville said I, you appear ex- “But how will Mr and Mrs Grenville bear your ab-
tremely young—and may probably stand in need of some sence?”

Love and Friendship
“They are neither of them alive Ma’am.” This was an LETTER tthe
answer I did not expect—I was quite silenced, and never From a Y
AD er
eryy much in lo
much ve tto
lov o her
felt so awkward in my Life—. Freind

My Uncle gets more stingy, my Aunt more particular,

and I more in love every day. What shall we all be at
this rate by the end of the year! I had this morning the
happiness of receiving the following Letter from my dear
Sackville St: Janry 7th It is a month to day since I first
beheld my lovely Henrietta, and the sacred anniversary
must and shall be kept in a manner becoming the day—
by writing to her. Never shall I forget the moment when
her Beauties first broke on my sight—No time as you
well know can erase it from my Memory. It was at Lady
Scudamores. Happy Lady Scudamore to live within a
mile of the divine Henrietta! When the lovely Creature
first entered the room, oh! what were my sensations?
The sight of you was like the sight ofa wonderful fine
Thing. I started—I gazed at her with admiration —She
appeared every moment more Charming, and the un-

Jane Austen
fortunate Musgrove became a captive to your Charms cellent one is at Present somewhat out of repair, is ready
before I had time to look about me. Yes Madam, I had to receive me. Amiable princess of my Heart farewell—
the happiness of adoring you, an happiness for which I Of that Heart which trembles while it signs itself Your
cannot be too grateful. “What said he to himself is most ardent Admirer and devoted humble servt. T.
Musgrove allowed to die for Henrietta? Enviable Mor- Musgrove.
tal! and may he pine for her who is the object of univer- There is a pattern for a Love-letter Matilda! Did you
sal admiration, who is adored by a Colonel, and toasted ever read such a master-piece of Writing? Such sense,
by a Baronet! Adorable Henrietta how beautiful you are! such sentiment, such purity of Thought, such flow of
I declare you are quite divine! You are more than Mor- Language and such unfeigned Love in one sheet? No,
tal. You are an Angel. You are Venus herself. In short never I can answer for it, since a Musgrove is not to be
Madam you are the prettiest Girl I ever saw in my Life— met with by every Girl. Oh! how I long to be with him!
and her Beauty is encreased in her Musgroves Eyes, by I intend to send him the following in answer to his Let-
permitting him to love her and allowing me to hope. And ter tomorrow.
ah! Angelic Miss Henrietta Heaven is my witness how My dearest Musgrove—. Words cannot express how
ardently I do hope for the death of your villanous Uncle happy your Letter made me; I thought I should have
and his abandoned Wife, since my fair one will not con- cried for joy, for I love you better than any body in the
sent to be mine till their decease has placed her in afflu- World. I think you the most amiable, and the handsom-
ence above what my fortune can procure—. Though it est Man in England, and so to be sure you are. I never
is an improvable Estate—. Cruel Henrietta to persist in read so sweet a Letter in my Life. Do write me another
such a resolution! I am at Present with my sister where just like it, and tell me you are in love with me in every
I mean to continue till my own house which tho’ an ex- other line. I quite die to see you. How shall we manage

Love and Friendship
to see one another? for we are so much in love that we “I am glad you think so replied she, for he is distract-
cannot live asunder. Oh! my dear Musgrove you can- edly in love with you.”
not think how impatiently I wait for the death of my “Law! Lady Scudamore said I, how can you talk so
Uncle and Aunt—If they will not Die soon, I beleive I ridiculously?”
shall run mad, for I get more in love with you every day “Nay, t’is very true answered she, I assure you, for he
of my Life. was in love with you from the first moment he beheld
How happy your Sister is to enjoy the pleasure of your you.”
Company in her house, and how happy every body in “I wish it may be true said I, for that is the only kind
London must be because you are there. I hope you will of love I would give a farthing for—There is some sense
be so kind as to write to me again soon, for I never read in being in love at first sight.”
such sweet Letters as yours. I am my dearest Musgrove “Well, I give you Joy of your conquest, replied Lady
most truly and faithfully yours for ever and ever Scudamore, and I beleive it to have been a very complete
Henrietta Halton. one; I am sure it is not a contemptible one, for my Cousin
I hope he will like my answer; it is as good a one as I is a charming young fellow, has seen a great deal of the
can write though nothing to his; Indeed I had always World, and writes the best Love-letters I ever read.”
heard what a dab he was at a Love-letter. I saw him you This made me very happy, and I was excessively
know for the first time at Lady Scudamores—And when pleased with my conquest. However, I thought it was
I saw her Ladyship afterwards she asked me how I liked proper to give myself a few Airs—so I said to her—
her Cousin Musgrove? “This is all very pretty Lady Scudamore, but you know
“Why upon my word said I, I think he is a very hand- that we young Ladies who are Heiresses must not throw
some young Man.” ourselves away upon Men who have no fortune at all.”

Jane Austen
“My dear Miss Halton said she, I am as much con- “Because every look, every word betrays it, answered
vinced of that as you can be, and I do assure you that I she; Come my dear Henrietta, consider me as a freind,
should be the last person to encourage your marrying and be sincere with me—Do not you prefer Mr Musgrove
anyone who had not some pretensions to expect a for- to any man of your acquaintance?”
tune with you. Mr Musgrove is so far from being poor “Pray do not ask me such questions Lady Scudamore,
that he has an estate of several hundreds an year which said I turning away my head, for it is not fit for me to
is capable of great Improvement, and an excellent answer them.”
House, though at Present it is not quite in repair.” “Nay my Love replied she, now you confirm my sus-
“If that is the case replied I, I have nothing more to picions. But why Henrietta should you be ashamed to
say against him, and if as you say he is an informed own a well-placed Love, or why refuse to confide in me?”
young Man and can write a good Love-letter, I am sure “I am not ashamed to own it; said I taking Courage. I
I have no reason to find fault with him for admiring me, do not refuse to confide in you or blush to say that I do
tho’ perhaps I may not marry him for all that Lady love your cousin Mr Musgrove, that I am sincerely at-
Scudamore.” tached to him, for it is no disgrace to love a handsome
“You are certainly under no obligation to marry him Man. If he were plain indeed I might have had reason
answered her Ladyship, except that which love himself to be ashamed of a passion which must have been mean
will dictate to you, for if I am not greatly mistaken you since the object would have been unworthy. But with
are at this very moment unknown to yourself, cherish- such a figure and face, and such beautiful hair as your
ing a most tender affection for him.” Cousin has, why should I blush to own that such supe-
“Law, Lady Scudamore replied I blushing how can rior merit has made an impression on me.”
you think of such a thing?” “My sweet Girl (said Lady Scudamore embracing me

Love and Friendship
with great affection) what a delicate way of thinking you for he was thoughtful and silent, when on a sudden he
have in these matters, and what a quick discernment interrupted me in the midst of something I was saying,
for one of your years! Oh! how I honour you for such by exclaiming in a most Theatrical tone—
Noble Sentiments!” Yes I’m in love I feel it now And Henrietta Halton has
“Do you Ma’am said I; You are vastly obliging. But undone me
pray Lady Scudamore did your Cousin himself tell you “Oh! What a sweet way replied I, of declaring his Pas-
of his affection for me I shall like him the better if he sion! To make such a couple of charming lines about
did, for what is a Lover without a Confidante?” me! What a pity it is that they are not in rhime!”
“Oh! my Love replied she, you were born for each “I am very glad you like it answered she; To be sure
other. Every word you say more deeply convinces me there was a great deal of Taste in it. And are you in love
that your Minds are actuated by the invisible power of with her, Cousin? said I. I am very sorry for it, for un-
simpathy, for your opinions and sentiments so exactly exceptionable as you are in every respect, with a pretty
coincide. Nay, the colour of your Hair is not very differ- Estate capable of Great improvements, and an excel-
ent. Yes my dear Girl, the poor despairing Musgrove lent House tho’ somewhat out of repair, yet who can
did reveal to me the story of his Love—. Nor was I sur- hope to aspire with success to the adorable Henrietta
prised at it—I know not how it was, but I had a kind of who has had an offer from a Colonel and been toasted
presentiment that he would be in love with you.” by a Baronet”— “That I have—” cried I. Lady
“Well, but how did he break it to you?” Scudamore continued. “Ah dear Cousin replied he, I
“It was not till after supper. We were sitting round the am so well convinced of the little Chance I can have of
fire together talking on indifferent subjects, though to winning her who is adored by thousands, that I need no
say the truth the Conversation was cheifly on my side assurances of yours to make me more thoroughly so.

Jane Austen
Yet surely neither you or the fair Henrietta herself will May he be as tenderly attached to her as the hapless
deny me the exquisite Gratification of dieing for her, of Musgrove and while he crumbles to dust, May they live
falling a victim to her Charms. And when I am dead”— an example of Felicity in the Conjugal state!”
continued her— Did you ever hear any thing so pathetic? What a
“Oh Lady Scudamore, said I wiping my eyes, that such charming wish, to be lain at my feet when he was dead!
a sweet Creature should talk of dieing!” Oh! what an exalted mind he must have to be capable
“It is an affecting Circumstance indeed, replied Lady of such a wish! Lady Scudamore went on.
Scudamore.” “When I am dead said he, let me be car- “Ah! my dear Cousin replied I to him, such noble
ried and lain at her feet, and perhaps she may not dis- behaviour as this, must melt the heart of any woman
dain to drop a pitying tear on my poor remains.” however obdurate it may naturally be; and could the
“Dear Lady Scudamore interrupted I, say no more divine Henrietta but hear your generous wishes for her
on this affecting subject. I cannot bear it.” happiness, all gentle as is her mind, I have not a doubt
“Oh! how I admire the sweet sensibility of your Soul, but that she would pity your affection and endeavour
and as I would not for Worlds wound it too deeply, I will to return it.” “Oh! Cousin answered he, do not en-
be silent.” deavour to raise my hopes by such flattering assurances.
“Pray go on.” said I. She did so. No, I cannot hope to please this angel of a Woman, and
“And then added he, Ah! Cousin imagine what my the only thing which remains for me to do, is to die.”
transports will be when I feel the dear precious drops “True Love is ever desponding replied I, but I my dear
trickle on my face! Who would not die to haste such Tom will give you even greater hopes of conquering this
extacy! And when I am interred, may the divine fair one’s heart, than I have yet given you, by assuring
Henrietta bless some happier Youth with her affection, you that I watched her with the strictest attention dur-

Love and Friendship
ing the whole day, and could plainly discover that she “Yes, I told him every thing.”
cherishes in her bosom though unknown to herself, a “And what did he say.”
most tender affection for you.” “He exclaimed with virulence against Uncles and
“Dear Lady Scudamore cried I, This is more than I Aunts; Accused the laws of England for allowing them
ever knew!” to Possess their Estates when wanted by their Nephews
“Did not I say that it was unknown to yourself? I did or Neices, and wished he were in the House of Com-
not, continued I to him, encourage you by saying this at mons, that he might reform the Legislature, and rectify
first, that surprise might render the pleasure still all its abuses.”
Greater.” “No Cousin replied he in a languid voice, “Oh! the sweet Man! What a spirit he has!” said I.
nothing will convince me that I can have touched the “He could not flatter himself he added, that the ador-
heart of Henrietta Halton, and if you are deceived your- able Henrietta would condescend for his sake to resign
self, do not attempt deceiving me.” “In short my Love it those Luxuries and that splendor to which she had been
was the work of some hours for me to Persuade the poor used, and accept only in exchange the Comforts and
despairing Youth that you had really a preference for Elegancies which his limited Income could afford her,
him; but when at last he could no longer deny the force even supposing that his house were in Readiness to re-
of my arguments, or discredit what I told him, his trans- ceive her. I told him that it could not be expected that
ports, his Raptures, his Extacies are beyond my power she would; it would be doing her an injustice to suppose
to describe.” her capable of giving up the power she now possesses
“Oh! the dear Creature, cried I, how passionately he and so nobly uses of doing such extensive Good to the
loves me! But dear Lady Scudamore did you tell him poorer part of her fellow Creatures, merely for the grati-
that I was totally dependant on my Uncle and Aunt?” fication of you and herself.”

Jane Austen
“To be sure said I, I am very Charitable every now SCRAPS
and then. And what did Mr Musgrove say to this?”
“He replied that he was under a melancholy necessity
of owning the truth of what I said, and that therefore if To Miss FANNY CATHERINE AUSTEN
he should be the happy Creature destined to be the
Husband of the Beautiful Henrietta he must bring him- My Dear Neice
self to wait, however impatiently, for the fortunate day,
when she might be freed from the power of worthless As I am prevented by the great distance between
Relations and able to bestow herself on him.” Rowling and Steventon from superintending your Edu-
What a noble Creature he is! Oh! Matilda what a cation myself, the care of which will probably on that
fortunate one I am, who am to be his Wife! My Aunt is account devolve on your Father and Mother, I think it
calling me to come and make the pies, so adeiu my dear is my particular Duty to Prevent your feeling as much
freind, and beleive me yours etc—H. Halton. as possible the want of my personal instructions, by
addressing to you on paper my Opinions and Admoni-
Finis. tions on the conduct of Young Women, which you will
find expressed in the following pages.—I am my dear
Neice Your affectionate Aunt

The Author.

Love and Friendship
PHILOSOPHER have infinite Wit and a good humour unalterable; her
conversation during the half hour they set with us, was
A LETTER replete with humourous sallies, Bonmots and repartees;
while the sensible, the amiable Julia uttered sentiments
My Dear Louisa Your friend Mr Millar called upon us of Morality worthy of a heart like her own. Mr Millar
yesterday in his way to Bath, whither he is going for his appeared to answer the character I had always received
health; two of his daughters were with him, but the el- of him. My Father met him with that look of Love, that
dest and the three Boys are with their Mother in Sussex. social Shake, and cordial kiss which marked his glad-
Though you have often told me that Miss Millar was ness at beholding an old and valued freind from whom
remarkably handsome, you never mentioned anything thro’ various circumstances he had been separated
of her Sisters’ beauty; yet they are certainly extremely nearly twenty years. Mr Millar observed (and very justly
pretty. I’ll give you their description.—Julia is eighteen; too) that many events had befallen each during that in-
with a countenance in which Modesty, Sense and Dig- terval of time, which gave occasion to the lovely Julia
nity are happily blended, she has a form which at once for making most sensible reflections on the many
presents you with Grace, Elegance and Symmetry. changes in their situation which so long a period had
Charlotte who is just sixteen is shorter than her Sister, occasioned, on the advantages of some, and the disad-
and though her figure cannot boast the easy dignity of vantages of others. From this subject she made a short
Julia’s, yet it has a pleasing plumpness which is in a dif- digression to the instability of human pleasures and the
ferent way as estimable. She is fair and her face is ex- uncertainty of their duration, which led her to observe
pressive sometimes of softness the most bewitching, and that all earthly Joys must be imperfect. She was pro-
at others of Vivacity the most striking. She appears to ceeding to illustrate this doctrine by examples from the

Jane Austen
Lives of great Men when the Carriage came to the Door THE FIRSTA
and the amiable Moralist with her Father and Sister was
obliged to depart; but not without a promise of spend- CHARACTERS
ing five or six months with us on their return. We of Popgun
course mentioned you, and I assure you that ample Jus- Maria
tice was done to your Merits by all. “Louisa Clarke (said Charles
I) is in general a very pleasant Girl, yet sometimes her Pistolletta
good humour is clouded by Peevishness, Envy and Spite. Postilion
She neither wants Understanding or is without some Hostess
pretensions to Beauty, but these are so very trifling, that Chorus of ploughboys
the value she sets on her personal charms, and the ado- Cook
ration she expects them to be offered are at once a strik- Strephon
ing example of her vanity, her pride, and her folly.” So Chloe
said I, and to my opinion everyone added weight by the
concurrence of their own. SCENE—AN INN

Your affectionate ENTER Hostess, Charles, Maria, and Cook.

Arabella Smythe. Hostess to Maria) If the gentry in the Lion should want
beds, shew them number 9.

Love and Friendship
Maria) Yes Mistress.— EXIT Maria marry to Strephon, and to whom I mean to bequeath
my whole Estate, it wants seven Miles.
Hostess to Cook) If their Honours in the Moon ask for
the bill of fare, give it them.
Cook) I wull, I wull. EXIT Cook.
ENTER Chloe and a chorus of ploughboys.
Hostess to Charles) If their Ladyships in the Sun ring
their Bell—answerit. Chloe) Where am I? At Hounslow.—Where go I? To
London—. What to do? To be married—. Unto whom?
Charles) Yes Madam. EXEUNT Severally. Unto Strephon. Who is he? A Youth. Then I will sing a

SCENE CHANGES TO THE MOON, and discovers SONG I go to Town And when I come down, I shall be
Popgun and Pistoletta. married to Streephon* [*Note the two e’s] And that to
me will be fun.
Pistoletta) Pray papa how far is it to London?
Chorus) Be fun, be fun, be fun, And that to me will be
Popgun) My Girl, my Darling, my favourite of all my fun.
Children, who art the picture of thy poor Mother who
died two months ago, with whom I am going to Town to ENTER Cook—Cook) Here is the bill of fare.

Jane Austen
Chloe reads) 2 Ducks, a leg of beef, a stinking partridge, that I received from Chloe.
and a tart.—I will have the leg of beef and the partridge.
EXIT Cook. And now I will sing another song. Post:) Sir, I accept your offer.

SONG—I am going to have my dinner, After which I END OF THE FIRST ACT.
shan’t be thinner, I wish I had here Strephon For he
would carve the partridge if it should be a tough one.

Chorus) Tough one, tough one, tough one For he would

carve the partridge if it Should be a tough one. EXIT
Chloe and Chorus.—


Enter Strephon and Postilion. Streph:) You drove me

from Staines to this place, from whence I mean to go to
Town to marry Chloe. How much is your due?

Post:) Eighteen pence. Streph:) Alas, my freind, I have

but a bad guinea with which I mean to support myself
in Town. But I will pawn to you an undirected Letter

Love and Friendship
A LETTER fr om a Y
from OUN
ADYY, whose ffeelings
eelings queathing only one hundred thousand pound apeice to
being ttoo
oo sstr
trong ffor
trong or her Judg ement led her int
Judgement o tthe
into he his three younger Children, left the bulk of his fortune,
commission of Er Errror
orss whic
which Heartt disappr
h her Hear disapprooved. about eight Million to the present Sir Thomas. Upon
his small pittance the Colonel lived tolerably contented
Many have been the cares and vicissitudes of my past for nearly four months when he took it into his head to
life, my beloved Ellinor, and the only consolation I feel determine on getting the whole of his eldest Brother’s
for their bitterness is that on a close examination of my Estate. A new will was forged and the Colonel produced
conduct, I am convinced that I have strictly deserved it in Court—but nobody would swear to it’s being the
them. I murdered my father at a very early period of right will except himself, and he had sworn so much that
my Life, I have since murdered my Mother, and I am Nobody beleived him. At that moment I happened to
now going to murder my Sister. I have changed my re- be passing by the door of the Court, and was beckoned
ligion so often that at present I have not an idea of any in by the Judge who told the Colonel that I was a Lady
left. I have been a perjured witness in every public tryal ready to witness anything for the cause of Justice, and
for these last twelve years; and I have forged my own advised him to apply to me. In short the Affair was
Will. In short there is scarcely a crime that I have not soon adjusted. The Colonel and I swore to its’ being the
committed—But I am now going to reform. Colonel right will, and Sir Thomas has been obliged to resign all
Martin of the Horse guards has paid his Addresses to his illgotten wealth. The Colonel in gratitude waited on
me, and we are to be married in a few days. As there is me the next day with an offer of his hand —. I am now
something singular in our Courtship, I will give you an going to murder my Sister. Yours Ever, Anna Parker.
account of it. Colonel Martin is the second son of the
late Sir John Martin who died immensely rich, but be-

Jane Austen
WALES—in have them both capped and heelpeiced at Carmarthen,
fr om a Y
from OUN
ADY— and at last when they were quite gone, Mama was so
kind as to lend us a pair of blue Sattin Slippers, of which
My Dear Clara I have been so long on the ramble that I we each took one and hopped home from Hereford de-
have not till now had it in my power to thank you for lightfully—I am your ever affectionate Elizabeth
your Letter—. We left our dear home on last Monday Johnson.
month; and proceeded on our tour through Wales, which
is a principality contiguous to England and gives the
title to the Prince of Wales. We travelled on horseback
by preference. My Mother rode upon our little poney
and Fanny and I walked by her side or rather ran, for
my Mother is so fond of riding fast that she galloped all
the way. You may be sure that we were in a fine perspi-
ration when we came to our place of resting. Fanny has
taken a great many Drawings of the Country, which are
very beautiful, tho’ perhaps not such exact resemblances
as might be wished, from their being taken as she ran
along. It would astonish you to see all the Shoes we
wore out in our Tour. We determined to take a good
Stock with us and therefore each took a pair of our own
besides those we set off in. However we were obliged to

Love and Friendship
TALE rived at the Forest and following a track which led by
it’s side down a steep Hill over which ten Rivulets me-
A Gentleman whose family name I shall conceal, bought andered, they reached the Cottage in half an hour.
a small Cottage in Pembrokeshire about two years ago. Wilhelminus alighted, and after knocking for some time
This daring Action was suggested to him by his elder without receiving any answer or hearing any one stir
Brother who promised to furnish two rooms and a Closet within, he opened the door which was fastened only by
for him, provided he would take a small house near the a wooden latch and entered a small room, which he im-
borders of an extensive Forest, and about three Miles mediately perceived to be one of the two that were un-
from the Sea. Wilhelminus gladly accepted the offer furnished—From thence he proceeded into a Closet
and continued for some time searching after such a re- equally bare. A pair of stairs that went out of it led him
treat when he was one morning agreably releived from into a room above, no less destitute, and these apart-
his suspence by reading this advertisement in a News- ments he found composed the whole of the House. He
paper. was by no means displeased with this discovery, as he
To Be Lett A Neat Cottage on the borders of an exten- had the comfort of reflecting that he should not be
sive forest and about three Miles from the Sea. It is obliged to lay out anything on furniture himself—. He
ready furnished except two rooms and a Closet. returned immediately to his Brother, who took him the
The delighted Wilhelminus posted away immediately next day to every Shop in Town, and bought what ever
to his brother, and shewed him the advertisement. was requisite to furnish the two rooms and the Closet,
Robertus congratulated him and sent him in his Car- In a few days everything was completed, and
riage to take possession of the Cottage. After travelling Wilhelminus returned to take possession of his Cottage.
for three days and six nights without stopping, they ar- Robertus accompanied him, with his Lady the amiable

Jane Austen
Cecilia and her two lovely Sisters Arabella and Marina
to whom Wilhelminus was tenderly attached, and a large
number of Attendants.—An ordinary Genius might To return to the Jane
probably have been embarrassed, in endeavouring to Austen page, go to
accomodate so large a party, but Wilhelminus with ad-
mirable presence of mind gave orders for the immediate
erection of two noble Tents in an open spot in the Forest
adjoining to the house. Their Construction was both
simple and elegant—A couple of old blankets, each sup- austen.htm
ported by four sticks, gave a striking proof of that taste
for architecture and that happy ease in overcoming dif-
ficulties which were some of Wilhelminus’s most strik- To return to the Elec-
ing Virtues.
tronic Classics Series
page, go to